


Destiny Is Bullshit

by Rays



Series: Destiny Verse [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character(s), Panic Attacks, Season/Series 03, Slow Burn, They do some drinking, lots of talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-24 22:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rays/pseuds/Rays
Summary: Quentin and Eliot deal with their new memories and how it changes everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set between 305 and 306, more to come

The silence that fell over the throne room was only interrupted by Quentin’s heavy and erratic breathing. Neither man could say a word as memory after memory washed over them of a life they never lived. Or had they? Each memory came with such weight that it felt like it had to be real. The letter Quentin had been holding fell to the ground without a sound and Eliot eyed it nervously.

“What does it say?” the words seemed to tumble out of his mouth without him realizing. Quentin said nothing in return, just sat there stunned looking paler by the second.

Eliot looked at Quentin out of the corner of his eye and a flash of memory came over him. Quentin was standing over a stove in a wooden cabin, the smile on his face more comfortable and open than Eliot had ever seen. Eliot could feel the soft mattress of the bed they shared in their one-room cabin. He could feel a laugh building inside of his chest as Quentin promised he could cook at least one meal without burning it. Eliot’s eyes snapped away from Quentin, the memory being so intense he felt dizzy.

“Quentin,” Eliot said almost desperately. “What does it say?” Quentin didn’t answer; he let out a sob instead.

Quentin was shaking and tears were flowing down his face. Eliot’s heart broke and he reached out for the other man to pull him in for a hug. When he made contact with him, another cry forced out of Quentin and he fought off Eliot’s arms.

“No, El, I can’t..” His words almost lost in his tears, Eliot reached for him again but slower this time.

“Q,” He whispered letting his fingers ghost over Quentin’s shaking hand. “You need to breathe. A nice slow breath. Can you do that for me?” Quentin closed his eyes and he started to pitch forward. Eliot caught him and this time Quentin didn’t fight his embrace.

“Holy shit.” Quentin moaned. “What’s going on?” Eliot just rocked him, unable to answer.

“I don’t know.” He said gently. His own panic was being pushed down as his concern over Quentin took precedence over anything he could be feeling. “Just breathe slow.”

Quentin finally started to listen to him. He allowed Eliot to hold him as they rocked back and forth. Eliot’s own breathing was slow and even, Quentin began to match it and began to calm down. The calmer he got, the tighter he clung to Eliot.

“You died.” He said again. Eliot tried to ignore the cold feeling inside of him at a such a memory. It was hazy and didn’t make sense to him but he knew it was a much more clear memory for Quentin.

“I did.” Quentin pushed back and stared at Eliot’s face, searching for something, reassurance maybe. He cupped Eliot’s cheek with his cold and clammy hand.

“I had to...” He looked like he was going to be sick. “I had to bury you…” There was nothing Eliot could say. Apologizing felt empty and he was sure it would do nothing to help Quentin right now. He merely took Quentin’s hand and squeezed it, assuring him he was alive now and that was what mattered.

“Did it really happen?” Eliot asked after a few minutes of silence. Quentin ran his hands through his hair and stood up.

“I don't’ know how.” He said as he started pacing. “Eliot, this is...it means...what the hell?” He couldn’t even complete a sentence. He stopped pacing and looked at Eliot. Once they locked eyes another memory flashed through Eliot’s mind.

 _“Please,”_ Quiet and needy sounds came from Quentin as Eliot pulled off his jeans and threw them across their one-room cabin. Their mouths crashed together in what felt familiar and well practiced. The feel of their bodies coming together, like it was something they always did.

Quickly looking away from each other, Eliot could see a slight blush on Quentin’s cheeks and he wondered if they remembered the same thing.

“What are we supposed to do with this?” Quentin finally asked.

“I don’t know.”

Eliot felt like they were going round and round. His head was pounding and his whole body suddenly felt so tired. He could remember being old. How his back ached from leaning over the mosaic every day for so long. How his knees cracked as they moved. He stared at his hands and he could still see the wrinkles. He looked back at Quentin and he could still see the long white beard that he used to tug on gently when Quentin would overthink things.

Quentin was staring at him with a look that was hard for Eliot to place. Even though in his heart he felt like he should know every look that Quentin could give him. He looked tired as well, and so damn lost.

“How did you get the key?” Eliot finally asked. “You finished it. What was the pattern?” Quentin’s face changed again. Grief came crashing back to him and he put his arm around his stomach.

“It just..” He covered his face with his hands and something between a laugh and a sob came out of him. “You died!” He exclaimed throwing his hands up. Eliot sighed, they were back on this.

“Q,” He started.

“No, you died.”Quentin cut him off. “And that’s how it finished.” He started to laugh, softly at first and then he began to cry. Eliot made a move to get up to go to him, but Quentin held up his hand.

“I need some air.” Quentin then ran from the room, leaving Eliot glued in his spot feeling like he'd been hit by a truck.

**********************************

Quentin came out of a side door that led to a small garden that without magic, seemed to be dying now. The afternoon sun shone down through wilted trees and created a strange puzzle piece pattern on the cobblestone sidewalk. It reminded Quentin of the mosaic. He watched the shadows move for a few seconds and then he threw up.

Panting, he stumbled to a nearby bench that sat next to a fountain that no longer ran. He wiped his mouth and closed his eyes to try to catch his breath. He felt like his head was going to explode. All the new information that rushed through him seemed to be triggering every anxiety button inside of him all at once. He could barely process one memory when another would come crashing in. Each memory also brought on every emotion attached to it.

It was too much for Quentin. He didn’t know how he was supposed to handle this. He could remember having a son. He could remember holding him for the first time. The look on Eliot’s face when he saw him. He could remember his son’s first steps, the first word, the first lost tooth. He could remember telling his son that his mother was dead and that he and Eliot would always be there for him. He could remember the last time he saw him. A few days before Eliot died.

He remembered Arielle. He loved her so much. She had opened his eyes to such a bigger idea of what his life could be. She never tried to keep he and Eliot apart. She showed him how all of them loving each other made them stronger as people and a more solid team. They were all so happy together. He remembered when she died. A virus, some kind of Fillorian flu. It was one of those illnesses they all thought nothing of it. That after a few days rest then she would be fine. Eliot was there was there when she died, and he took care of both Quentin and their son. He would never have survived without Eliot.

But when Quentin’s back was turned, Eliot died, leaving him all alone. And he was rewarded with the key they had worked so hard for, only to have to give to Jane a few moments later. After she had run off with it, Quentin wandered around the mosaic and the woods surrounding it. He felt like he failed. That everything had been for nothing and now he would have to live in this tiny box of a life that just earlier that day had been so much fuller, all alone.

But Eliot was inside now. He was alive, young again, and had wanted to comfort him. Quentin knew he needed that comfort, more than he needed anything. He needed to know Eliot was ok and that they were back. They used to talk about it a lot in the early days. Returning to their friends triumphantly with the key held high and they would brag about how easy it was. As years turned into decades though, they talked less and less about it. It became sad to think that they may never make it back. Then they just stopped talking about them because their lives were going on, they had a family and a purpose. Getting the key, not getting back home. They were home.

Quentin always wondered what coming back would feel like. And this wasn’t it.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment Margo woke from her nap she could feel it in the air. Something had shifted, changed in such a way that she could feel in her bones that nothing was ever going to be the same again. As she walked through the halls, pulling her arms around herself to fight off a sudden chill that ran through her body, she recognized the feeling as similar to the one she got when she had read Quentin’s letter.

 “ _Eliot and I are both dead.”_

 She shook her head to get the memory out of her mind. She had been here in Fillory alone for too long now. The Fairy Queen had her by the balls and the first good thing to happen to her had been decapitated right in front of her face. On top of that, she was now expected to sleep with a 15-year-old boy who had done said decapitation of his own brother. Eliot and Quentin being dead had been the cherry on top of her shit filled sundae of a life. She got them back, even if the process of that was almost as nightmare inducing as her wedding to Micah had been. Now though, she wondered what else could have gone wrong.

 She found Eliot still in the throne room where she had left him. He was sitting under the wedding arch, the letter Quentin had sent his hands and a half-eaten peach on the floor at his feet. He was reading the letter intently, one leg jutted out and the other curled under him. His posture gave away that he had been sitting there for some time now. Quentin, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found.

 “Where’s Q?” Eliot’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice. Margo was surprised to see his face pale and his cheeks shone with either sweat of tears. One look at his eyes Margo decided it must be the latter. His eyes were wide, red-rimmed and glossy. There was something in his expression she had never seen, even the night of the trials when they had stood naked on the rooftop of Brakebills and bared their souls to each other.

 “He needed to get some air.” His voice was strained, like just speaking was draining his life away with every syllable. Stepping closer to him she could see now that his hands were shaking, the letter was practically vibrating as he held it.

 “What the hell happened?” She asked, rushing to his side. Eliot seemed to pull himself together quickly. He dropped the letter and wiped his face.

 “It’s just been a long day.” He said with a shaky smile. Margo wasn't convinced for a second.

 “Eliot,” She said seriously, putting her hand on his knee. “What the fuck?” He just looked at her, emotions flashing over his face. He seemed to be searching for how to explain to her what was happening in his head. He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped himself and closed his eyes.

 “It’s just…” He sighed and then placed his hand on top of hers. “I don’t have an answer.” He practically whispered and looked ashamed. Margo was about to say more but Tick came rushing into the room at that moment.

 “It’s true! You’ve returned!” He seemed relieved and Margo couldn’t help but roll her eye.

 “Uh, yes. Triumphant return.” Eliot said barely getting up the energy even for that. He sighed and then leaned his head in his hand. Margo could now see the exhaustion that appeared to be overtaking him; suddenly his strange behavior didn’t seem so unusual. He did tell her how he had run from cannibals and his experience with the illusion of his father.

 “Am I correct in thinking I also saw King Quentin?” Tick asked as he craned his head around the room, searching for Quentin. Before Margo could confirm this, Eliot suddenly stood up.

 “You didn’t,” He said sternly. “I mean, you did, but officially, and if any of our friends ask, you didn't.” He gave Tick a pointed look and to his credit, Tick caught on quickly.

 “Yes, you’re right.” He said with a nod. “I’ll just carry on then.” He then quickly left the room. Eliot seemed to deflate with a moment of relief and he sat back down.

 “Having another King here might help us.” Margo pointed out.

 “It would be best to keep the Fairy Queen as far away from Q as possible,” Eliot said not even looking at her. “At least for the moment.”

 Margo nodded, maybe it was a good idea. “You look like you need sleep.” Eliot snorted.

 “I need more than sleep.” Margo frowned, unsure of how to go forward with this. Eliot turned to her and she was struck by how much older he suddenly seemed. It was almost like looking at a stranger. She felt tears fill her eye and then Eliot’s face softened to something more recognizable to her. He brought his hand to her face and gently wiped a tear away.

 “Sleep, good idea Bambi.” He said with a smile. Then he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “It’s ok; I’ll get some sleep.” Without another word, Eliot stood and walked out of the room.

 

************************

 Margo found Quentin laying on a bench out in one of the many gardens. He was staring up at the sky with a kind of thousand-yard stare. She realized at that moment just how long it had been since she and Quentin had really seen each other. The last time she had seen him was just after he had killed Ember. He left, promising to return once he checked on Alice. He hadn’t come back though. Magic was turned off and she and Eliot realized that there would be no going back or anyone else coming back anymore.

 “Scoot over Q,” She said, crossing her arms. Quentin sighed and sat up, moving to one side to let her sit down. “Thank you.” She plopped down next to him and took a good look at him. He looked worse than Eliot, more pitiful at least. Though, looking pitiful was something that seemed to come easily to Quentin. Margo smiled, it was easy to make jokes about him, but she adored him and found all of those quirks endearing as hell.

 “I kinda missed you.” She said. He turned to her, almost surprised which made her smile even more. “Don’t look so shocked.” She told him and then laid her head on his shoulder.

 “I kinda missed you too,” Quentin said quietly and took her hand. Margo closed her eye and tried to let the anxiety she was feeling flow out of her. Quentin had that effect on her. Even though the poor boy was one big jumble of nerves himself, she always found herself calmed by his pure sweet nature.

 When they had met, she knew he was Eliot’s new flavor of the month. He had talked non-stop all morning about the cute boy he had been assigned to. Once they had heard he had passed and was settling in, Eliot wasted no time in showing off his latest crush. She hadn’t been impressed at first. Sure he was cute, in that sad puppy dog way, but she didn’t see what Eliot’s excitement was about.

 She had been a little surprised when Eliot insisted on having the new kid hang around them all the time. Eliot spent the first week showing Quentin around, telling him everything he knew about the school. Margo had tagged along and kept a wary eye on this new boy taking Eliot’s attention away from her.

 It didn’t take long though, for her to get it. One day she saw him reading Fillory and Further and when she commented how she had loved the books as a kid, he lit up as she had just shown him her tits or something. He went on a whole excited rant about how much the books meant to him as a kid and still meant to him now. He talked about magic and how maybe someday he would have his chance at a quest. She could see the love for Fillory and magic flowing through him as his hands waved through the air when he talked. And Margo got it. He was different than any of Eliot’s first-year boys. He was unique and she kind of fell in love with him at that moment. Though she would never admit this to him ever.

 “I sent Eliot to bed,” Margo said after she and Quentin had fallen into a comfortable silence. “I think you should go to bed too.” She pulled back to look at him. He had tears in his eyes.

 “I think that’s a good idea.” He said. Then he surprised her and kissed on the cheek.

 “I really missed you Margo.” He whispered and before she could respond, he walked away.

 

*****************************

 

Eliot used to love his room at Castle Whitespire. It had two story windows that looked out at valleys and waterfalls. His bed was bigger than any he had ever seen on Earth and was more comfortable than any of them too. He had endless clothes and accessories at his disposal. And it had been all his. He never had trouble sleeping in here before. But right now, exhausted to the bone, Eliot couldn’t sleep.

 He tossed and turned, memories of a smaller bed in a much smaller room dominated his thoughts. He remembered the first time he and Quentin had opened the door to the cabin and realized just how small it was. There had been a kitchen, a table, a little fireplace, a couch, a bathroom with a small tub, and one bed.

  _“Looks like we have to share.”_ He had winked and teased Quentin about it. Thought it was funny then. Back when they thought they would be done with this in a matter of hours. The first night, they slept at separate times. Not out of any weirdness about sleeping in the same bed, they had both had thought they could get more done with the mosaic if they took turns. It didn’t last too long though because it became clear to them pretty quickly that it went much more effecitly  when they worked together.

 They used to sleep back to back. Eliot found it kind of nice, the feel of Quentin’s breathing against his back, and it would lull him to sleep. As the days turned to weeks, they began to seek comfort from each other as they slept. Quentin especially was struggling with how long this was taking. At night, when they didn’t have the mosaic to occupy his thoughts, Quentin would let his mind race about their friends, the keys, magic, all the time they could be wasting. Eliot finally just pulled Quentin to his chest and let him cry it out. Quentin fell asleep in his arms and from then on at night they would cling to each other.

 When Arielle had joined them she never slept in between them like imagined she would. That was never her to do that. She had fallen in love with Quentin, but she also fell in love with Quentin and Eliot, and what they were to each other. She would sleep on Quentin’s other side, curled up against his back while he held onto Eliot.

 The only person to ever get between he and Quentin in their bed was Rupert. Eliot couldn’t think of him. Those were memories he wasn’t ready to visit. The ache he felt when the thought of Quentin’s son, of his son, was so great that he thought he would never sleep again.

 Eliot’s heavy door opened with an ominous creak and it thankfully snapped Eliot out his thoughts. He sat up quickly, worried about who might be coming in. But it was only Quentin. Eliot didn’t realize a few hours away from him had caused a tightness in his chest that was suddenly gone when he had Quentin in his sights. Neither said anything at first, just staring at each other across the slowly darkening room.

 “I remembered something,” Quentin said, his voice shaking. Eliot just nodded, signaling him to continue. “I don’t know how to sleep without you anymore.” Quentin hugged himself and Eliot smiled.

 He didn’t say anything, he just pulled the covers back and Quentin wasted no time before rushing over and climbing into Eliot’s bed. Arms immediately went around Eliot’s waist and he wrapped his arms around Quentin tightly. Finally, both of them could sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come! Let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Quentin woke slowly. He quickly put his hand over his eyes to block out the sun that was shining into the room and over his face. He took a deep breath and was surprised when he didn’t smell the familiar smells of the woods of Fillory and the flowers that were planted just outside. Instead, he heard a distant sound of rushing water and the distinct smell of Elliot. He smiled and reached out his arms only to find he was alone.

“Eliot!” Quentin jolted up, panic momentarily seized him but he quickly found Eliot. He was sitting on the windowsill smoking a cigarette.

“Morning,” Quentin suddenly felt like they were back at Brakebills. Eliot hasn't smoked cigarettes since coming to Fillory and discovering that they were one of the many things he had to give up. Even his posture and the tone in his voice reminded Quentin of an Eliot that was a lifetime ago. That strange self-confidence that had always drawn Quentin to him in the first place. He thought if he was around it long enough, it would rub off on him.

“Where did you get those?” Quentin asked pointing to the Merit cigarettes that sat next to Eliot’s feet.

“Picked up a pack when I dropped Fen, Fray, and Todd off at the bus station.” He said taking a drag. “Thought it’d be nice. And it is.” Quentin sat up fully, leaning his back against the headboard and shook his head.

“You really think starting back up smoking is a healthy idea?” He questioned.

“Are we really going to have this conversation?” Eliot’s words may be a little biting but the smile on his face showed affection. Quentin felt something warm and familiar in their exchange and it seemed to surprise both of them how easily they picked where they had left off in their other life.

“How long have you been up?” Quentin asked changing the subject.

“Not long,” Eliot flicked some ashes into a small teacup he seemed to be working as an ashtray. “It’s afternoon, we slept a long time.”

“I think we needed it.” Quentin pulled his knees up to his chest and Eliot just nodded taking another long drag off his cigarette. “You do know Merit’s are for pussies,” Eliot smirked at him and then stubbed out the cigarette.

“Alright mother,” He said. “You win this time, but I get to finish this pack.” Quentin smiled and got out of bed. He wore light clothing, good for sleeping but now he felt chilled so he took a smaller blanket off the bed and it wrapped it around himself.

He sat down on the windowsill across from Eliot and took in the view. It was beautiful here. He had never really taken the time to appreciate where they were. He had been in and out of Fillory from the moment they got there. Something always seemed to drag him back to Earth. His longest stretch in Fillory had been about three months just after he had released Alice. Those three months had not been his favorite. He had failed Alice and when he tried to seek comfort from his friend, Eliot was distracted by wedding planning. So Quentin spent those three months mostly drunk trying to forget what he had done to Alice and that Eliot was happily marrying another man.

“So what do we do next?” Quentin asked.

“I have no fucking clue.” Eliot starred mournfully out the window.

Quentin knew that he wasn’t the only one to deal with demons. Eliot was just as prone to bouts of deep depression like himself. Quentin’s depression usually came with waves of panic while Eliot was the opposite. He had once figured the difference between them was like if the path to depression was a deep hole you fell into, the way they tumbled down that showed how they handled themselves. Quentin would fall not so gracefully, grabbing and clawing to try to stop it before he got too deep. Eliot, on the other hand, almost seemed to swan dive down that hole. He was mostly able to keep himself out more often than Quentin, but when he went down, he went willingly.

Without thinking too deeply, Quentin reached over and took Eliot’s hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze to remind him he wasn’t alone in this. Whatever had happened, whatever was going to happen, Eliot was stuck with Quentin now. Eliot looked at Quentin and he smiled, relieved.

“I didn’t tell Margo anything.” He admitted. “I tried, but I don’t even know how to explain it to myself.”

“Well, maybe we don’t tell anyone yet,” Quentin suggested, he laced his fingers through Eliot’s. “We should figure this out ourselves first.” Eliot nodded and Quentin could tell he was itching for another cigarette “Go ahead and have one. I guess the sooner you finish that pack the better.” Eliot wasted no time and lit one up.

“So are we agreeing that it happened?” He asked after two long drags. “That whole mosaic life? The house, the girl, our son. It happened right?” Quentin wasn’t sure how to answer. He also didn’t know which answer was more comforting.

“I don't know El,” He said. “It feels real.” Eliot nodded.

“I think it was real.” He finally admitted. “At least, I need it to be real.” Quentin was struck by the sudden tears that filled Eliot’s eyes. Yesterday had been his breakdown, and now it was Eliot’s.

“Yeah,” He said softly. “I do too.” Eliot started to smile, but his tears dripped down his face and he started crying instead. Quentin didn’t say anything he just pulled Eliot into a hug and let him cry.

****************

Margo had waited long enough for Eliot and Quentin to wake up. She had let them have all night and most of the day, but it was closer to the evening now and she was going to force them to talk to her. Something had happened that they weren’t telling her and she was not one to like being left in the dark about anything. She stormed down the hall to Eliot’s room first. She figured she’d grab him and together they could rouse Quentin because there was always fun to be had with that.

“I’m sorry your Majesty,” the cute guard Eliot always liked, said to her as she approached the room. “The High King has asked no one bother him for the rest of the day.”

“Has he?” Margo asked crossing her arms. “Well I’m the High Queen and I think it’s safe to say I am allowed in.” She made a move to open the door but was stopped by the guard.

“Actually, High Queen,” He nodded to her, trying to show respect which she at least appreciated. “He said no one, including you.” Margo blinked.

“Did he?”

“Yes,” the guard nodded. “He was very clear in his instructions.” Worry came over Margo. She knew Eliot well enough to know that there were times that he shouldn’t be left alone, no matter how much he insists it’s what he needs. With how he looked yesterday and especially knowing he had recently dealt with an illusion of his father, she felt the need to get in that room grow even stronger.

“Look, I don’t care what he said but I need to get into that room.” Her hands went to her hips and she did her best not to just start screaming right there. “He may think he needs to be alone but I am telling you, open this door right the fuck now.”

“He’s not alone.” The guard said quickly, then he looked over his shoulder quickly before leaning closer to Margo to talk more softly. “King Quentin is with him.” That surprised Margo, maybe more than it should.

“Quentin?” She said slowly.

“Yes,” The guard nodded. “The High King informed me how we are keeping his presence secret at the moment.” The young boy looked proud at this, to be let in on this secret. Margo strangely found herself jealous of the guard at that moment.

“Right.” She said, trying to ignore the pit that was growing in her stomach. “I guess that’s ok then. When you talk to him, inform him that I would like to speak with him.”

“I will your Majesty.” He gave her a small bow and she turned from him to walk down the hall.

Eliot hadn’t wanted to see her. This was new and Margo did not like it. She was used to having an all-access pass to her best friend. Could things between them really be this bad? She knew they had some stuff to work out, no relationship was perfect and they had the tendency to ignore the things that they were uncomfortable with. But Eliot had never deliberately locked her out so blatantly.

Quentin was in there though. She at least knew Eliot was safe and she could feel relieved about that. But why Quentin? Not that she didn’t accept the fact they were also friends, she had no misgivings about that. She knew their friendship was a deep one. She probably knew better than they did how much they truly adored each other. Quentin also had a way of comforting Eliot that Margo could never do. Being emotionally available was something she struggled with, even with those she really loved. With Quentin though, all he was was open all of those around him.

Margo found her way back to the throne room, she eyed the Fairy Queen who she knew would be asking about why she still had yet to consummate her marriage. She tried to hold her head up though and feel strong, not like the sacrificial lamb she felt she was becoming. She would get answers out of her friends and they would finally put an end to all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how fast I'll be putting this out, got some busy time coming up but this chapter came a lot faster than I would have thought so who knows. Thank you for those who commented and left kudos! Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Eliot never pretended to know how to be a King when a blade cut his hand instead of the more qualified people to do the job. The things he knew how to do were all in the category of magic, partying, making excellent drinks, fucking, and being all around fabulous. Being responsible for the entire world was above his pay grade. But when he got there, he had nothing else to lose and if he was honest with himself he figured they would realize what a fraud he actually was then they would execute him and everything would be over. But then Quentin had to go and show faith in him.

He didn’t care too much about it all until the moment Quentin stopped him from crowning himself and made a big thing of it. He couldn’t stop the tears that came to his eyes looking at Quentin's kind face that looked down on him with such admiration and faith that he could do this. He knew Quentin had been disappointed when he was not revealed to be the High King and Eliot had worried that Quentin would resent him for being the one. It didn’t help that at the time, things were still weird between them because of the threesome they had just before they left. But Quentin was the first to jump on board and make him believe in himself.

_“For what it’s worth, I think that you are going to be a really good king.”_

Whenever he started to doubt himself, he would replay that moment in his head and it always gave him a confidence boost. Though he had not been the best King. He hadn’t been disciplined enough and Quentin wouldn’t stay in Fillory long enough to help him. But now he back after a lifetime spent in Fillory with Quentin at his side, always believing in him, so now he had to do better.

Eliot poured over maps and charts showing how bad things had gotten in Fillory since the loss of magic. Fillory needed magic to keep going, the whole place was magic and no amount of manure or any other tricks from his farming days could completely help the crops that were dying. There were families losing their homes and people were literally dying without the healing magic they relied on. Not to mention how unhappy most of the Fillorians were about the marriage between Margo and Prince Fomar.

“You finally came out of your room.” Margo marched into the throne room looking none too happy. “What were you two doing in there all day?” She sat down haughty and waited for an explanation. Eliot sighed, he could hear that slight jealous tone in her question and he didn’t have the energy to calm her.

“We needed some rest.” He said simply not looking up from the map Benedict had made him showing which crops were most affected. “Nothing exciting, I promise.”

“You two didn’t fuck again did you?” Eliot dropped the map and finally looked at her.

“Margo,” He said exasperatedly.

“What?” She said with a shrug and a smirk. “You two spend all day in bed together, you know that’s what I’m going to ask. I mean where is he right now?” She raised an eyebrow knowingly.

“He’s in my room, and no we didn’t fuck.” Eliot leaned back in his chair. “He’s going to stay there until I figure out what we should do with him.”

“We should make him be a King,” Margo said. “He’s the Fillory nerd, it’s time for him to step up and give us a hand for once.”

“Right, that’s what we should do,” Eliot said sarcastically. “Let’s just serve him up to the Fairy Queen because it’s worked out so well for us.” Margo’s face changed from playful to pissed off.

“I think I know pretty well how badly we’ve been screwed over by the Fairies.” She said slowly. “I’m also the one who has been stuck back here being her little bitch while you and Quentin were out there not fucking.” She sat back, with her arms crossed and waited for his response.

Eliot didn’t know what was wrong. He had missed Margo more than he could ever express. They had first met on the day they took the entrance exam to Brakebills. He had been minding his own business back in his shit town in Indiana when one turn down the street took him to upstate New York and what would be his new home. He had numbly followed some random second year and was lead to a table for his quiz. Seated next to him was a terrified looking girl who looked at him with those big doe eyes.

_“Please tell me you have some kind of pill or powder that will make this all make some fucking sense.”_

And from that moment on he and Margo were inseparable. She was the Ying to his Yang. She came from L.A. which was the opposite of Indiana and she had money where he had been poor. They came from completely different lives but Eliot just knew, they were the same and they needed each other. But life happens, and people grow and change. The thing was, it wasn’t Margo fault. He ran off and got a whole lifetime’s worth of change and had left her behind. Now he was different, but she was still the same.

“We aren’t telling her who he is,” Eliot said firmly. “Just let it go, Margo. Maybe we actually protect someone we care about for a change.” He wished he didn’t say it as it was coming out of his mouth.

“Fuck you.” Margo stood slowly, her eyes brimming with anger. “I dug up a dead body to save you. You would be fucking dead without me.” Eliot grabbed her hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I just want to keep him safe, this isn’t about you, it’s about me. This time it’s about me.” He offered a small smile. “I’m sorry Bambi.” She sat back down and the anger faded a little.

“Something happened.” She said. “You and Q are keeping something from me aren’t you? And if it’s not that you two are fucking, what is it?” Eliot could see the worry flowing over her face and he felt guilty but he still couldn’t bring to say what happened. What happened was a whole wall was suddenly put up inside of him that separated the before and after. Quentin was on his side of the wall and together they could talk about what happened. Margo was on the other side though and it was too much to pull her over just yet.

“It’s not anything you need to worry about.” Eliot tried to explain.

“Oh, that’s vague.” Margo snorted.

“I just mean,” Eliot said quickly. “This quest has been hard and Q and I have a been doing most of the work and we’re just working on the next key.” He wanted to pat himself on the back for a good cover, which wasn’t even a lie. Margo stared long and hard at him.

“So you’re really not fucking?”

************************************

Eliot returned to his room that evening to find Quentin with his face stuck in a thick book. Papers and books spread out on the whole bed. Quentin sat crossed legged in the middle of the whole mess, his long hair falling into his face and he read. Eliot leaned against the wall and just watched him with a smile on his lips. This might be his favorite Quentin. When he was lost in his books and planning out his next move.

Eliot loved the evenings they would spend back at the mosaic as they planned the pattern they would try for the next day. Quentin would scrunch himself into a ball almost as he plotted out each tile, his hair a mess and his mind working to his advantage for once. They would usually work together, sometimes Eliot would do more planning if he had thought of something particular. But Eliot’s favorite nights were when he got to watch Quentin.

“Eliot!” Eliot blinked, he realized he’d been so lost in thought that Quentin must have said his name a few times by the time he heard him. “You ok?”

“Yeah, sorry,” He said quickly as he walked over to the bed. “Long day.” He sat down and Quentin scooted over to him.

“How’s our Kingdom?” He asked bumping his shoulder against Eliot’s back as he situated himself just a little behind him. Eliot signed, instinctively leaning back against Quentin, who didn’t move.

“Not good.” He admitted. “Everything is really fucked and the Fairies have been keeping us so distracted with meaningless things we haven’t been able to do a thing about it. We can’t do anything about the Fairies without magic so we are really fucking screwed.” Eliot hadn’t meant to sound so desperate. He didn’t want to stress Quentin out with all of this but it was like he had no choice. He was now so used to telling Quentin everything that is didn’t matter what lifetime they were in, he needed Quentin as his sounding board.

“Hey, we’re going to figure this out,” Quentin said gently, his hands moved to Eliot’s shoulders and he began to massage them. “I’m working on the next key. It’s all riddle right now, but we’ll figure it out. The important thing is to keep our heads on straight keep the Fairies thinking we don’t know what to do.” Eliot snorted, leaning back into Quentin's touch.

“That’s easy to do.” He said. He looked up and Quentin was smirking down at him. “I never know what to do.” That Quentin frowned at.

“El, I think I know better than anyone how full of shit that statement is” He dropped his hands from Eliot’s shoulders and moved so he was now sitting in front of him. “You kept us going. I wanted to quit every other day, but you wouldn’t let me. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for and we will figure this out.” Eliot smiled, he reached out and tucked some fallen hair behind Quentin’s ear. He let his hand linger on Quentin’s cheek and he suddenly felt nervous.

They hadn’t spoken about some of the more intimate memories. Eliot couldn’t even be sure if Quentin remembered or not. Memories of their early, awkward days of after sleeping together on their one year anniversary at the mosaic. Memories of those few years before Arielle when it was just the two of them. Some days passion taking over them and they would spend most of the day inside the cabin instead of working on the mosaic. Other days when passion and their frustrations would come out and they would fight all day and make up all night. Memories of Arielle being with them. She loved watching them together and her excitement for them only made things more charged between them. Memories of after Arielle where the passion had changed into a deep connection and they would hold each other for hours after

Now Eliot wanted to kiss Quentin and there was a time not so long ago it felt, that he would have. Quentin looked just as conflicted as he felt, so he slowly withdrew his hand. They weren’t ready yet, and Eliot would not screw this up.

“Thank you.” He said and Quentin smiled, a little relieved.

“You look beat.” He told Eliot. “Get those clothes off-” Quentin stopped mid-sentence, looking kind of horrified. Eliot couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well.” He said smirking, jokingly lifting his shirt. “If you say so.” Quentin laughed and shoved him before getting up himself.

“You know I didn’t mean that.” He said as he started to gather up all his work. “I just mean, let's go to bed.” That got another smirk from Eliot which Quentin must have anticipated because he once again shoved Eliot, this time off the bed, without even looking at his face. “Get your head out of the gutter El.”

“Oh Q,” He said standing up, unbuttoning his shirt. “You know that’s impossible.” He saw Quentin blush as he took off his shirt and then Quentin went back to clearing the bed.

Once Eliot changed, he sat on the side of the bed where Quentin was sitting against the headboard.

“It’s alright to just lay here together, right?” Quentin asked nervously. “I could go back to my old room.”

“Q,” Eliot rolled his eyes. “Come here.” He laid down and gently pulled Quentin down with him. Quentin rested his head on Eliot’s chest, his arm wrapped around Eliot’s waist. Eliot wrapped his arm around Quentin’s shoulders, his hand slowly carding through Quentin’s hair.

“I told you,” He said resting his chin on Quentin’s head. “You’re staying here with me.” Quentin hummed in response and just snuggled deeper into Eliot’s embrace. Eliot closed his eyes and just let himself enjoy this moment of closeness. They still had a lot to work out but Eliot was glad that it didn’t affect how they could just be there for each other.

“You know, Margo thinks we’re fucking.” And then the two laughed for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, this was a little more upbeat because more angst is coming. Let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

Margo’s discipline was ice. She didn’t think it was all that impressive really but sometimes when she told people they would get this knowing look on their face like they just figured out something deep and personal about her. That ice must run through her veins and her uncaring attitude stemmed from that. She would like it if they were wrong but somewhere, deep inside her she knew they were kind of right. Being warm and opening was not something Margo would ever claim to be her strength. Even just being sincere was hard for her, but she knew that it didn’t mean she didn’t have feelings. She felt things so deeply that it caused her build up every defense she could, of ice or otherwise. The only person who ever seemed to know that was Eliot.

 

Eliot had seen past her defenses since day one. Maybe because she could see past his and see he was just like her. A sad and lonely kid who had to create a new version of themselves that better matched who they felt they were inside instead of what everyone else decided that they should be. They were kindred spirits safe in their bubble of fabulousness, but like everything good in her life, this too was going to shit.

 

Margo found Eliot and Quentin in the throne room early one morning. It had been about a week since they had been back and Quentin had threatened bodily harm if he wasn’t allowed out of Eliot’s room for a just a little bit. Eliot quickly obliged and now Quentin was let out every so often whenever the Fairies were not around so he would not go crazy. Margo had a made a joke about Eliot letting the puppy out but it only seemed to make Quentin moody and Eliot pissed.

 

The two of them were huddled together talking quietly, both smiling. This was becoming the new normal for Margo, being left out of the Eliot and Quentin bubble. She remembered when it was the other way around. Back at Brakebills her and Eliot had been that close and Quentin was just there to witness their antics. She didn’t like missing her old life. She was here now and she didn’t like to look back, it never did anyone any good. But the past week, it was all she thought about.

 

“Wish me luck!” Eliot said, seeming very confident as he stood. Quentin smiled up at him from where he was scrunched up on his throne, he gave him a thumbs up but was clearly more apprehensive about whatever it was Eliot was off to do.

 

“Where are you going?” Margo asked walking fully into the room. Eliot looked surprised to see her.

 

“Oh, I didn’t tell you?” he asked, then he smiled at her proudly. “I am off to be a better King!” He kissed her on the cheek before looking back at Quentin. “You better get back to our room before the Fairies come back.” Quentin frowned at him and Eliot ran off calling for Tick.

 

“What the fuck was that about?” Margo asked, her eye wide. “And did he say _our_ room, what the fuck does that mean?”

 

“He meant his.” Quentin was already pouting as he got up and started walking out.

 

“Right,” Margo said following him. “Where is he going?”

 

“He really didn't tell you?” Quentin asked as they rounded a corner. The repeat of what Eliot had said seemed to dig in and fester at her already growing annoyance.

 

“No.” She spat.

 

“He’s going out to some of the villages and farms. He wants to see the people and have them see him type of thing. Thinks it will make everyone feel better or some shit.” Quentin didn’t seem too sold on the idea.

 

“And we’re thinking this is a good idea?” Margo asked.

 

“Normally yeah,” Quentin said nervously tucking his hair behind his ear. “But, the Fillorians are really pissed and someone has already tried to kill him when he was safe here. Now he’s just putting himself out there when things are even worse. He could get himself killed.” Of course, Margo thought. Eliot and Quentin were now suddenly obsessed with each others safety in a way they never were before. Not that she didn’t agree with Quentin, but he was making it seem like Eliot was going out to battle. Being locked up in Eliot’s room seemed to be making Quentin more dramatic than usual.

 

“But Eliot insisted,” Quentin said going on as they went down the last hall to Eliot’s room. “And you know how he can get.”

 

“Yeah,” Margo said slow, that uncomfortable pit in her stomach grew a little. They arrived at Eliot’s room and Margo followed him inside.

 

“Maybe he can get something good out of this though.” Quentin said, seeming to brighten up. “Eliot will always surprise you.” Margo was looking around the room. A desk had been brought in, obviously for Quentin. His books and all the research he was doing on the quest were spread all over it. A good look around the room and she hints saw hints of Quentin everywhere. It wasn’t surprising seeing how he spent most of his time here, but the items told a story. Clothes, his shoes, crumpled up papers, and a copy of _Fillory and Further_ on the nightstand. Eliot had said _our room_.

 

“Ok, what the actual fuck is going on?” Margo finally snapped. Quentin looked confused.

 

“Wha-Nothing!” He stammered, Quentin had always been a bad liar.

 

“Since when did Eliot make plans about Fillory with you and not think to talk about them to me?” She asked. “I mean, I’m High Queen and you’re barely a King.”

 

“Well-Hey!” Quentin tried to interrupt but Margo kept going.

 

“What is up with this new secret club you two seem to have? Planning for our Kingdom like you actually give a shit?” She laughed and Quentin glared at her. “You have refused to help from the word go. The whole reason we came here is because we believed in you Q and you fucking ditched us!” Quentin laughed bitterly at that and ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Now you’re just hanging out in Eliot’s room, what are you guys even-”

 

“Ok stop!” Quentin shouted, cutting her off. Margo snapped her mouth shut. She honestly hadn’t meant say all that, no matter that it was how she felt, even she knew there was a better way for them to talk about this. It was something Eliot would have understood, that she wasn’t a heartless bitch, just a jealous one. Looking at Quentin though, he didn’t get it and she had hurt him.

 

“I’ve made mistakes with how I’ve handled being a King. I know that and I’m not trying to pretend all that didn’t happen, but I can’t change that.” He wasn’t yelling, but he was just barely keeping his voice from getting there. “I want to go forward differently and be more involved. I didn’t ask to stay stuck in here!” He threw his hands up, looking around the room.

 

“I’m going stir crazy in here,” He said with a bitter laugh. “But it’s what Eliot wants. He’s got it in his head that I’m somehow safe from the Fairy Queen as long I’m in here. Even though you and I both know that’s not true.” Margo just shrugged, probably wasn’t. “But he has a lot on his plate and he has a lot going on in his head and-” Quentin stopped, emotion taking over, he quickly swiped a hand over his eyes. Margo felt worse.

 

“I can’t do much to help anyone, ever,” He said with a sad smile. “But I can stay in here because it lets him worry about one less thing. I can at least do that. So that’s why I’m here, not some secret plan to shut you out.” Margo wasn’t expecting that. Something had definitely changed between them and right then, just for this moment, she didn’t want to know. Looking into Quentin’s eyes, she suddenly felt like she was intruding. Margo could feel her place in all this suddenly getting smaller.

 

“I don’t know why he didn’t tell you.” Quentin sat on the bed, the anger he had had been drained out, now he looked like he was close to tears. Margo shifted uncomfortably where she stood.

 

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” Margo found herself saying blankly. “It’s not like he cares what I think.” Quentin looked at her and frowned.

 

“That’s not true.” He said softly. Margo just shook her head. If he had cared about her opinion he would have told her about whatever was happening with Quentin. When it got down to it, she didn’t care about his plans for Fillory, but because he couldn’t share if he had finally gotten together with Quentin, that’s how she knew they were not who they used to be. Before this could go on any longer, Margo turned to leave. She opened the door to reveal Tick standing there.

 

“Queen Margo!” He exclaimed. “Prince Fomar is asking for you. He has collected all of the flowers you asked for and said he is ready for you to consummate your marriage!” Quentin shot her a questioning look.

 

“What? You two aren’t the only ones with plans.” She turned back to Tick “I’ll find him.” Tick nodded and quickly walked away.

 

“You’re not actually about to have sex with him are you?” Quentin asked.

 

“No, I have a plan,” Margo told him.

 

“What flowers did he get?”

 

“I told him that he needed to collect a dozen of a certain rare flower that grows around the castle,” Margo explained. “It’s part of an offering to Himeros, the god of sexual desire. It’s customary before a woman from Earth can have sex, Quentin. No wonder you were a virgin for so long.” Quentin chuckled. The Fairies had given her the idea, and for once she had found them useful

 

“Well, I guess that’s a plan.” He told her and Margo smiled. She still felt that pit in her stomach but the anger had faded and her ice had thawed somewhat.

 

“Are you ok?” Quentin asked Margo sighed.

 

“No,” She said honestly. “I think I’m losing my best friend.” Before Quentin could respond, she left.

 

*******************************

 

Quentin tried not to let what Margo had said get to him. He had long ago dealt with how he had behaved after Alice died and he abandoned his friends and his duty to Fillory. He and Eliot had already had this fight during their first year at the mosaic. It had been just as emotionally draining then as it was now. He thought he had worked through all these issues, but now he saw that Eliot wasn’t the only one who he had hurt. It kinda felt like no matter how much progress he seemed to make, something would always be there to remind him of what a useless fuck up he really was.

 

He stood with his back against the wall staring down at all the work he had been doing for this quest and it all suddenly felt meaningless to him. What was the point? They could finish this quest and find all the keys, get magic back and save the day, but then what? He would find somehow find a way to make everything worse, it was what he did. He thought he would be some hero and defeat the Beast, but then he decided to give that task to Alice and looked how that turned out. Then he thought he would stop Ember from destroying Fillory, killing him and turning off all magic with it. He was going to fuck this up too.

 

“Well, that could have gone better.” Eliot walked into the room at that moment, looking exhausted. He took one look at Quentin and the frown that was already on his face deepened. “What’s wrong?” Quentin shook his head.

 

“Nothing.” He croaked.

 

“Bullshit,” Eliot said moving to stand in front of him. “This is the part you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. That’s how this works.” Quentin sighed.

 

“I just had an interesting talk with Margo.” He said. “Seems she’s not too happy with how absent I’ve been.”

 

“Magic is gone,” Eliot said. “Until we had the key, how else were you supposed to get here?”

 

“Before that,” Quentin said sliding down the wall. Eliot was quiet and Quentin avoided looking at him. Even though they had worked through this issue out long ago it didn’t mean it hadn’t been a sore spot going forward. It was one of those things that every few years or so would come back up if they ever got into a particularly bad fight.

 

_“You choose everyone but me! Every time!” Eliot shouted the mosaic the only thing between them. “I even offer you to be a King of Fillory, something you have wanted your whole life and still, you don’t choose me.”_

 

Eliot sat down on the floor next to Quentin silently. They sat there, shoulders touching, for a few moments.

 

“Margo shouldn’t have said that.” Eliot finally said quietly.

 

“No,” Quentin said quickly. “She has the right”

 

“No, she-”

 

“Eliot,” Quentin cut him off. “She was hurt too.” Eliot just shrugged and stared at his hands. “Anyway, that’s not really the point.”

 

“What’s the point?” Eliot asked looking up. Quentin gestured around the room.

 

“The point is I’m stuck in here while you and Margo are dealing with actual shit and I can’t do a thing to help!” Quentin could feel his panic creeping in and he took a breath and buried his face in his hands, resting his arms on his knees.

 

“You’re working on the quest that will bring magic back Quentin,” Eliot said pointing to the desk. “That will do more than help us.” Quentin ran a hand through his hair and looked back up.

 

“Yeah, but you guys need help now and I just feel so fucking useless.” He barely finished the sentence before Eliot’s face was in his line of vision.

 

“Hey,” He said grabbing Quentin’s chin and forcing him to look him in the eyes. “You are _not_ useless.” Eliot’s eyes bore into him and Quentin found himself sinking into Eliot’s side, letting his face fall into the crook of his neck. Eliot wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly. Logically Quentin knew the feeling of uselessness was just his depression talking, but it didn’t stop him from feeling it. Eliot reminding him though, that made that feeling go away and Quentin could breathe again.

 

“I know I’m not.” He finally said softly.”But it doesn’t mean I’m not going a little crazy in here.” He moved so he was now resting more on Eliot’s shoulder. Eliot was quiet for a moment, as he absentmindedly played with Quentin’s hair.

 

“I know you think I’m being overprotective.” He said. “I just look at Margo and Fen…” He trailed off that the mention his wife, still back on Earth with Fray where they figured they would be safer for now. “What they’ve done to them.” He trailed off again and Quentin saw the hopeless look on Eliot’s face matching what he felt himself on the inside. Eliot could make that feeling go away for him and Quentin would be damned if he couldn’t do the same.

 

“I get it.” He said then he gently smoothed some hair out of Eliot’s face and waited for him to make eye contact. “It’s ok, I just had a bad day.” Eliot sighed, but he seemed to relax slightly and he nodded. “You should talk to Margo.”

 

“Oh, I will be,” Eliot said looking stern. “She shouldn’t be making you feel guilty about things that-”

 

“Not that,” Quentin interrupted. “You didn’t tell her about what you had planned for today?” Eliot just shrugged.

 

“I forgot?” He offered.

 

“You have to tell her these things,” Quentin told him. “If I’m not allowed to actually be a King, then you need to fill Margo in on these things in case you need help. You’re not the only one who is worried about someone around here.” Eliot looked guilty at that.

 

“Sorry,” he said. Quentin shook his head.

 

“Why aren’t you talking to her?”

 

“I don’t know.” Eliot rested his head against the wall and he starred off across the room. “I don’t really have it all worked out in my head yet if I’m honest. But, she keeps acting like she saved us from something horrible, and that everything we went through meant nothing.” Quentin frowned and slid his hand into Eliot’s that was hanging off of his shoulder.

 

“She doesn’t know what happened to us.” He reminded him. “You can’t punish her for something she doesn’t know.”

 

“I know,” Eliot said closing his eyes.

 

“Maybe we should tell her?” Quentin asked. Eliot looked at him sharply, Quentin knew that look meant Eliot was not changing his mind just yet. Quentin just nodded and then laid his head back on Eliot’s shoulder.

 

“So it didn’t go well?” He asked changing the subject.

 

“Yeah,” Eliot said. “People really don’t like us.” Quentin snorted and that made Eliot smile.

 

“Well, what else is new?” Quentin smiled up at Eliot, who laughed softly and then pulled Quentin closer and kissed the top of his head.

 

“I’m sorry you had a bad day.” He said into Quentin’s hair. Quentin just smiled, melting into Eliot’s side.

 

“It’s ok,” He said. “It hasn’t been that bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented! I can't remember if Margo's discipline has ever come up on the show but Janet's was ice so I went with it! Hopefully it works. Let me know you think!


	6. Chapter 6

Eliot knew he was driving Quentin crazy by keeping him locked up in his room like it was actually going to prevent something from happening to him. Eliot couldn’t help himself though. From the moment his memories came roaring back he was slammed with this fear that it could all be taken away.

He had never thought he could live a happy normal life. His father never missed an opportunity to remind him that fags don’t get happy endings. The world even seemed dead set on telling him and everyone who was the slightest bit different that very same thing. Eliot learned to let go of certain hopes and dreams in exchange for something he could cobble together to pass off as happy. He accepted that love and sex were separate things that if mixed together would only lead to resentment and disappointment. He decided that since his father had been awful then he too would be a horrible father and it was best to avoid children at all costs. His life was going to be fun and carefree. Just him and Margo, their bitchy banter and a good cocktail.

Then he became a King and the harsh reality of what responsibility means crashed that life down. He thought he could do this, have his life mean something outside of himself and he reveled in it at first. Basking in the glow of his newfound euphoria. But things got messy and complicated and he couldn’t keep up with each new crisis that came his way. He started to believe what his father used to say. He only knew how to fuck up, it was the one thing he was good at.

But then came the mosaic. It was strange what you learn about yourself when you spend your life figuring out a puzzle. Things became clearer and the lines between love and sex began to blur as he and Quentin became closer over the years. A new pride in himself began to grow as he figured out the thing he was best at was taking care of Quentin. Realizing that he could be good for someone and not toxic turned everything he thought about himself on its head. He thought he had finally reached happiness in a way he thought he never would. Then came Rupert. The moment the squirming baby was set in his arms Eliot's understanding of the world flipped again.

_“Look at our son El,”_

When Quentin told him that Arielle was pregnant Eliot could feel the wonderful life he had painstakingly built start to crumble around him yet again. Quentin insisted though that Eliot was going to be a father too. He and Arielle didn’t want Eliot left out of this, this child was also his. Eliot tried to tell Quentin what a terrible idea this was. He would be a horrible father and ruin this kids life and make Quentin and Arielle hate him. Quentin wouldn’t hear it though, and never once showed any doubt that Eliot could be a good father.

If the thing Eliot was best at was taking care of Quentin, what Quentin was best at was believing in Eliot. Quentin’s biggest strength was just his belief period. Whether it was believing in magic, Fillory or some strange notion that Eliot could be capable of more, Quentin carried him into fatherhood and nothing could ever compare to how wonderful and fulfilling that was. He proved his father wrong every day and proved to himself that no one is tied to where they come from.

Now they were back and that whole life was just memories now and Eliot didn’t know if it was real or if the growth he had experienced wasn’t just a dream of a life he would never deserve. Staring down at a sleeping Quentin he thought about how they both needed some clarity and to just step away and regroup before they both went insane. Eliot slowly smiled, he knew what they needed.

“Q! Q!” he said, softly poking Quentin’s side. “Quentin! Wake up!” he gave him a good shove which got a groan out of Quentin.

“What?” He grumbled.

“I have an idea!” Eliot said in a sing-song voice. Quentin squinted up at him with a frown.

“Ok, you know when you say it like that it makes me nervous.”

“We need a no puzzle day!” Quentin blinked and sat up on his elbows.

“A no puzzle day?” Eliot nodded excitedly. “Isn’t that kinda every day now?” Eliot rolled his eyes.

“Obviously Quentin,” he said. “What I mean is we need a moment. You need to get out of this room and I need to get some air to figure out what to do to help our kingdom-”

“And how to make up with Margo.” Eliot frowned.

“You know an Eliot only no puzzle day might be even better.” Quentin smiled and sat up fully.

“Alright, I’ll back off.” He agreed. “But do you really think today is a good day for it? Shouldn’t you work out some plans from what you heard yesterday while it’s still fresh?”

“No, today is the perfect day.” Eliot pleaded. He smiled playfully at Quentin. “Come on Q, play hooky with me.” Eliot raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ok,” Quentin said laughing as he ran a hand through his hair. “A no puzzle day actually sounds really nice. Thank you.” Quentin smiled and suddenly they were here again. It was a moment that Eliot wanted to lean over and kiss Quentin and he still felt something in him stopping him.

He didn’t know why this was something so hard for them to start a conversation on. Eliot felt like whatever spark had grown between them during that first year working on the mosaic was still there and just as strong as it got by the time they were old men gushing over their grandkids together. A proper word that covered their relationship had yet to be discovered, they figured at least that much out ages ago. What they were to each other was something only they understood and now it was the one thing they struggled to talk about.

Quentin was still staring at him with that look that meant he was wanting more. He jutted his chin out slightly, Eliot recognized it as Quentin asking for a kiss but Eliot couldn’t do it. They were back in this lifetime now. Their other one had been the one where Eliot got everything right, but here, this was where he was the fuck up. He couldn’t ruin what he had been able to hold on too.

“You’re welcome.” He settled on giving Quentin a kiss on the forehead and tried to ignore the knowing look on Quentin’s face. “You get yourself dressed and I will go see about getting us some food and champagne to take with us.” He got up and quickly made his way to the door.

“ Yeah champagne?” He turned back to Quentin, still lounging on the bed with a smirk on his face. “Won’t that be fun?”

****************

Eliot was making sure everything he and Quentin needed was loaded into the royal carriage when Margo found him. She was looking very unhappy.

“Tick just told me that you and Q are taking the day off?” She snapped. “Are you fucking serious right now? You’ve been back for a week, Q’s been gone even longer and now you guys need a break?” Eliot sighed and refused to look at her.

“Yes Margo we do,” he said evenly. “This quest has been hard and we need to regroup to figure some shit out, it’s not a big deal.” Margo scoffed at that.  
“I am getting sick and tired of hearing that.” She sneered. “Everything with you two lately is all about this quest.”

“We’re trying to get magic back!” Eliot exclaimed whirling around to face her now. “I think even you can see how important that is.”

“I’m aware Eliot, more than you know.” Her anger receded just enough for Eliot to see the fear in her before she pulled her anger back to the front “But it’s kind of hard to get so hung up on something when you don’t even get to be apart of it.”

“We’re all apart of this.” Eliot pointed out.

“Am I really?” She asked. Eliot frowned and she just shook her head. “By my count, it’s been you and Quentin, Julia, I bet Alice is more involved than me. Even fucking Penny, he’s an astral projection apparently and he’s got more skin in this game that I do. I’m stuck here keeping the Fairies entertained. My one contribution to this whole quest was digging up a dead body to save your sorry ass from that shitty lifetime that got you guys killed. And you just seemed pissed at me every day for it!” She looked to Eliot for a response but Eliot had gone cold.

“A shitty life?” he asked softly trying to keep his anger down. “What gives you the right to call it that? Quentin’s letter told you right there that it was a good and full life. Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone?” He was shouting by the end and he saw over Margo’s shoulder that Quentin had come out and was staring at him wide-eyed.

“Jesus Eliot,” Margo said. “It’s not like it actually happened.” Eliot felt like he had been slapped by her words. He could only stare at her as he tried to come up with something to say that wasn’t telling her to go to hell.

“Eliot,” Quentin spoke up before he could say anything. Quentin came over and shot Margo a look that wasn’t unkind but let her know that she had struck a nerve with him as well. “We need to go.” He took Eliot by the elbow and pulled him toward the royal carriage that was waiting.

“Yeah go,” Margo said, her voice thick. “Leave me to deal with the Fairies yet again.” Eliot spun around, Quentin tried to stop him but Eliot ignored him.

“Let’s not forget why they Fairies are here in the first place.” This time Margo looked like she had been slapped. In the angriest part of himself, Eliot was glad he had hurt her.

“No puzzle day,” Quentin whispered into his ear before pushing him into the carriage. Once he was seated and they started to ride off, Eliot looked back at Margo. He saw the moment the anger drained from her face and was replaced with complete devastation. That angry part of himself cooled right then and melted into painful guilt.

***************

They had been working at the mosaic for at least six months when Quentin thought they were both about to crack as the stress of this task started to get to them. Every day was starting to feel like one failure after another. Quentin started to worry that they were missing something and that’s why the damn thing wouldn’t work. He was scared they were wasting their time and who knew what could be happening to their friends back in their own time. He started having panic attacks more often and he had trouble eating and sleeping. Eliot got his first good look at how bad his depression could get. That was when Eliot had come up with the first no puzzle day.

He packed up some food and the best fruit wine he could get his hands on and forced Quentin to leave behind the record book they wrote down all their patterns for the mosaic. They found a quiet place in a clearing in the woods. It had was next to a creek and had a big tree that they could lie under. They spent the whole day there and let themselves just relax and not worry about the quest for one day. From then on, whenever one of them was struggling or they just needed a day off, they would pack up a bag, put up wards around the mosaic to keep someone else from trying to start it while they were gone and take a no puzzle day.

Some of Quentin’s fondest memories were from those days. Especially when Rupert, and later their grandchildren, would join them. Quentin knew he was in desperate need of a new equivalent of a no puzzle day and after coming in at the tail end of that fight, he knew Eliot needed this too. He watched Eliot stare mournfully out the window, guilt and self-doubt flew all over his face.

“Hey,” Quentin said. “Remember that one time we decided to spend the day on that rowboat we borrowed from that old nutty guy from that farm?” Eliot looked away from the window and onto Quentin. “We could barely get it into the water without killing each other. Then once we did get it in the water, neither one of us could figure out how to row. I mean who knew that was going to be so hard” Eliot finally smiled.

“Movies and TV have truly lied to us,” he said. Quentin laughed and then got up to sit next to him.

“But we figured it out, even if it meant we spent most of the day just floating aimless and drinking,” he said. Eliot chuckled and slipped an arm around Quentin’s shoulder. “But it turned out to be a really amazing day.” Eliot rested his cheek against Quentin’s head.

“Is this you trying to tell me that the best day can start with a fight?” he asked frowning.

“No, I’m trying to tell you that we both figure things out even if we have to float aimlessly around for at first. You and Margo have a lot to talk about, and you will but you need to let some of that anger go before you talk to her again,” he explained.

“Yeah, I know,” Eliot said with a sigh, his eyes going back to the window.

“I also wanted to remind you of a happy memory.” Quentin went on. “A memory that I remember too because it happened.” Eliot looked back at Quentin now. “If we both remember; then it happened. El, no one take this away from us.” Eliot’s eyes fill with gratitude and he pulled Quentin in for a proper hug. Quentin could feel the tension leaving Eliot's body.

“Thank you.” He whispered and they rode the rest of the way in a comfortable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I planned for the whole day with them to be one chapter but when I outlined it I realized just how much I have planned for this one thing I needed to split it up. Gonna spend a little extra time on the next chapter because it's a lot and I need to get it right. I hope everyone is enjoying this, thanks to those who have commented and left kudos! Let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

Eliot tasked Benedict with finding them a suitable place for them to escape too for the day. As he got out of the royal carriage, Eliot applauded the map-makers skills. It was a large open field that settled next to a small lake with trees scattered all around. Eliot gave instructions to the driver about when to return and Quentin started gathering their things. Eliot watched as he opened one of the bags to find a blanket inside. It obviously wasn’t the one they remembered but when Eliot had seen it in one of the villages yesterday, he knew he had to get it.

Their first year at the mosaic had not been an easy one. In ways, they grew closer in that first year than they had ever been, but being each others only company for a year had also taken its toll. About a week before the first anniversary they had one big blow up. They let out every small gripe to an actual problem they had with each other out in the open. Feeling confused and exposed, Eliot walked away that day to get some space. He didn’t come back until the next day to find a panicked Quentin. But just that one night away had made Eliot realize how much they really needed each other and there was no turning away now. So he brought Quentin a peace offering. A blanket he had found in the village that was closest to them. It had reminded him of the mosaic, a bunch of different colored squares flowing together into a pattern. He offered it to him with the promise of going forward together. Quentin looked up from this new blanket and smiled at Eliot. It wasn’t the pattern exactly, it was red tiles cascading down to white, but it had the same feel and Eliot hoped it had the same meaning.

“Come on,” Eliot said with a smile, he bumped his shoulder against Quentin’s. “This food is heavy.” They found a spot near the water and while Quentin spread out the blanket, Eliot got out a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“You’re just digging right in.” Quentin chuckled as he watched Eliot and picked up the glasses.

“My dear little Q,” Eliot said with a smile as he popped the cork. “We are starting this day out right.” Quentin laughed and held out their glasses for Eliot to pour.

“I won’t disagree with that.” Quentin passed Eliot his glass and settled back. Eliot watched him as he ran his finger over the blanket.

“Should we toast?” He asked. Quentin looked up with a thoughtful look on his face.

“Yeah,” He held up his glass and Eliot took a seat next to him. “To this lifetime, may it measure up.” Eliot smiled and they clinked glasses. As they each drank Eliot looked around at their surroundings. The early morning sun made everything seem so bright and clear, he felt like maybe he could just let go of his baggage today.

“Can I ask you something uncomfortable?” Quentin piped up suddenly.

“I thought the point of no puzzle day was to relax and let go of all the uncomfortable questions.” Eliot pointed out.

“Yeah, but this is a new no puzzle day and I need to ask you because I’m worried about you.” The corners of Eliot’s mouth twitched up just slightly. He couldn’t help the warm feeling that flooded through him at Quentin worrying about him, it didn’t really matter if he didn’t want to answer any question he probably had.

“Fire away,” He said as he downed the rest of his drink.

“When you and Margo were fighting, you said that you wished she had left well enough alone,” he asked. Eliot looked away from Quentin’s questioning gaze and poured himself more champagne. “Are you not happy to be back?”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about uncomfortable.” Eliot laughed and took a drink. Quentin frowned.

“Eliot,” He said gently. “I need to know if you’re ok.” Eliot set his drink down and sighed.

“Q, I am ok,” he said seriously, looking right into Quentin’s eyes. Quentin seemed to look him over, assessing that answer. Eliot held his gaze hoping he would see he wasn’t about to off himself or run away. He knew what these checks were for. Quentin seemed to finally accept that answer and nodded. Eliot nodded back and then took another long drink.

“Do you want to tell me what you meant by that then?” Quentin asked not letting the topic go that quickly.

“Not really much to say about it,” Eliot said shrugging. “I was pissed.”

“Yeah I know,” Quentin said taking a drink himself. “But do you wish all this now wasn’t happening?”

“Quentin, I was just mad,” Eliot said evenly. “We all say shit when we’re mad.”

“It's just me El,” Quentin said taking Eliot’s hand. “We’re not at the castle, you’re not wearing your crown, hell this isn’t this isn’t even Brakebills. Just be honest with me.” Eliot looked into Quentin’s eyes, which were now just inches away, he saw the comfort there and squeezed Quentin’s hand back.

“I am happy we’re here, I promise I am.” He started. “But sometimes, just _sometimes_ ” He tried to emphasize that word. “I think about how we lived a truly good and full life and everyone always wishes they could have that. I was happy and I was a good man and I died when it was my time. Who’s to say I’ll get that again?” Eliot could almost see the sadness descend onto Quentin’s face.

Eliot hadn’t mentioned any of this to Quentin for this very reason. They hadn't talked about his death in the other timeline since that first day because it had upset Quentin so much. Eliot didn’t want to dwell on it himself so he pushed it out of his mind as best he could, though it was always there. He knew there were times over the past week that Quentin must have thought about it because he would get this lost and broken look on his face like he had now.

“Sorry,” Eliot said quickly Quentin looked up sharply.

“Why would you be sorry?” he asked.

“I shouldn’t-Of course I’m happy we’re back. We are where we are needed and with our friends again.” He took a long drink. “Even if those friends are being difficult right now.” That got Quentin to smile a little and Eliot smiled back. He held up his glass. “And we get fairly good livers back.” Quentin laughed and clinked his glass to Eliot’s and they finished up their drinks.

“Well, I’m glad you told me,” Quentin said. “And I know how you feel.”

“Really?” Eliot asked surprised.

“Yeah of course,” Quentin set his glass down and slipped his hand back into Eliot’s again. “I think about the life we had and how it was pretty close to perfect. And then being here, it just kind of feels like we now have all this extra time to screw everything up because that’s all I seem to be able to do in this timeline.” Eliot smiled, relieved to hear Quentin voice the things that had been banging around his head all week.

“Look at us,” Eliot said. “Two screwed up kids.” Quentin smiled and scooted closer.

“Yeah, but I’m also glad to be back.” He pointed out. “Because here, in this timeline, you’re alive.” Love flooded Eliot in a way he wasn’t completely expecting.  
All week he felt like he was struggling with trying to figure out how he felt about all this. Should he be happy that he had led a good life and got a much-earned death, and why was he always somehow getting more chances? Not just now, there were 39-time loops he had already survived, the beast had killed him a 40th time that Alice saved him from. Then there was the time at the bank heist. It wasn’t his body really that he threw in front of Quentin, but it was him who had almost died. He didn’t feel like he deserved any of this. He brought his hand up to Quentin’s cheek and ran his thumb along his cheekbone softly. He pulled Quentin closer and rested his forehead against his. Quentin’s sweet and honest face made him want every chance he could get to keep living.

“Why won’t you kiss me?” Quentin whispered. Eliot pulled back enough to kiss Quentin on the forehead.

“How about we get something stronger?” He asked. He went over to one of their bags and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “If Todd asks, the bottle got up and walked out on its own.” He smiled but Quentin still had that look on his face that meant he wanted an answer.

“Come on Q,” He said opening the bottle. “One uncomfortable question at a time. Can that be how this day works?” Quentin pouted for a few more seconds but nodded.

“Ok, but you better bring out the food because I don’t want to deal with you drinking all this on an empty stomach.” Eliot put his hand to his chest in mock offense.

“I am not the one who starts singing after two drinks.” He pointed out.

“Hey, I am damn entertaining,” Quentin said laughing. “You always said so.”

“Yeah, entertaining doesn’t equal good.” Eliot pulled out a couple sandwiches and Quentin shoved him playfully.

“So the cigarettes and the whiskey. Anything else you absconded from the cottage?” Eliot smiled devilishly at him as he poured him a good amount of whiskey.

“Oh my dear little Q,” He winked. “You’ll just have to wait and see.” Quentin shook his head.

“And that’s what I’m afraid of.” Eliot laughed and together they ate the cucumber sandwiches and watched as the morning light became just a little later.

***********************

An hour and a half later, Eliot and Quentin were enjoying the comfortable silence between them. Quentin lay on his stomach and Eliot was using his back as a headrest. A cigarette hung between Eliot’s fingers as he lazily hummed under his breath watching the clouds. Quentin had _Fillory and Further_ open in front of him.

Since they had been back, he’d been reading the book over and over again. After learning the truth about Plover and dealing with the real Martin Chatwin, Quentin didn’t want to read the books anymore. For the first time in his life, he packed up his Fillory books and put them away. He only got them out if they needed to know something that would help them in the real Fillory. When magic disappeared Quentin dug them out as quick as he could. He had realized pretty quickly that no magic meant no travel to Fillory. He started to panic and wondered if a place that was magic, like Fillory, could even exist without magic. He scoured the books for any hint at what would happen to Fillory without magic. He had to know if he had not only shut off magic for everyone but also destroyed the place of his childhood dreams and killed his two best friends.

He couldn’t find what he was looking for but he finally remembered the comfort the books had always given him. For the first time in a long time, he was able to separate who Plover and Martin really were and just enjoy the story again. During those two months before Julia showed him what she could do, Quentin was comforted by his childhood dreams.

When they had first gone through the clock, they didn’t have time to tell anyone let alone bring anything other than the Tale of the Seven Keys and a notebook Quentin happened to be holding. Not far into their quest, Quentin realized how much he missed reading those books when he was feeling anxious. Eliot told him that he had read them so many times that he must know them by heart and can recreate them. Quentin did, though he found it a much harder task than he thought. Eliot encouraged him to write it how he would have written it, do whatever he needed to get his comfort back. Now as he read over the books, he couldn’t remember where his ideas had fit in.

“Do you think it’s still there?” Eliot asked as he blew smoke up into the sky.

“What’s still there?” Quentin asked folding his book closed.

“Our home,” Eliot said swinging his foot that hung off his knee. “The mosaic. Do you think it’s still there? How long ago was it that we would’ve been there? 50 years? 60? Weren’t we close to the Chatwin’s time?”

_“Did you just finish the mosaic?”_

“Uh, yeah, 60 years I think.” Quentin stammered as he rubbed his eyes trying to block Jane’s voice from his mind. “I kinda lost track there at the end.” Eliot rolled off of Quentin’s back and situated himself so he was lying next to Quentin on his back.

“Do you think anyone else ever came by to try it?” he asked.

“I think it can only be solved once,” Quentin said. “I mean we did get the key.”

“Yeah, but maybe there are more keys. Maybe someone figured it out faster than we did.”

_“With a friend, we solved it together.”_

“I don’t know if it works like that.” Quentin tried to keep the chill out of his voice. It didn’t work because Eliot eyed him suspiciously.

“You ok?” he asked. Quentin groaned and got to his knees.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He moved over to where the whiskey bottle was sitting behind them. He practically crawled but got the bottle and poured himself a drink. He could feel Eliot watching him and silently begged Eliot to let it go.

“Can I get some of that?” Eliot asked. Quentin gave him a thankful look and passed him the bottle. Eliot didn’t use his glass instead of taking a swig straight from the bottle as he picked up _Fillory and Further_

“You keep reading this,” he said as Quentin took a long drink. “Looking for anything in particular?”

“I’m trying to find out about the mosaic actually,” Quentin said coming back over and sat cross-legged next to Eliot. “It really doesn’t give much information about it, just that Jane knew that she needed to complete it to get the key, and when she got there it was done.”

“Are you trying to find out if we’re in the books?” Eliot asked sitting up.

“Well, yeah,” Quentin mumbled with a small shrug. Eliot beamed at him.

“That is really adorable Q,” he said and then leaned over to grab another sandwich. “But I thought we already knew it was us. I mean, that was why did it.”

“Yeah, but having proof in the books would be nice,” Quentin admitted flipping through the book. “I mean it totally glosses over how she got the key. Jane gets there, sees it’s done and is given the key. It’s almost anticlimactic, and it just didn’t feel like that.” His voice got quiet by then of that, mumbling out the last couple words.

He remembered the feeling when the key appeared. Something mixed between awe and complete devastation. Knowing that he had waiting close to 70 years for this and that Eliot had just missed it. He only held it for a few minutes and it had been warm, solid and so real.

“So you gave her the key?” Eliot asked softly. Quentin looked at him, a dread coming over him, worrying that Eliot would be angry.

“I did.” He said nervously. But Eliot only smiled.

“That means we really are in the books!” He said with a laugh. “Get excited Q,” he gave Quentin a gentle shove on the shoulder. “You’re in the books twice, nerd out.” Quentin smiled a little.

“No, I’m excited.” Quentin was charmed by Eliot’s sweet excitement. “So you really think it was us?”

“Yeah,” Eliot said biting into his sandwich. “You said that day one, wasn’t the whole point?”

“I guess.” Quentin shrugged. Eliot took a swig from the whiskey bottle then passed it to Quentin before laying down on his lap.

“So how did it happen?” He asked. Quentin took a swig and set the bottle down.

“How did what happen?” he asked.

“Giving Jane the key,” Eliot said. “You said the books glossed over it, so what’s missing?” Quentin ran his fingers through Eliot’s hair and smiled sadly.

“I guess it really wasn’t too big on her side. It was only a few minutes.” Quentin focused on his fingers moving through Eliot’s dark hair and not on Eliot’s face. “She just came and said she needed it. She already had the watch the dwarves made her, she needed the key to power it to create the time loops. So I gave it to her.” Quentin still wouldn’t look at Eliot’s face but he felt him gently grab his chin and force him to look at him.

“Why do you look so guilty?” he asked.

“Forget about it.” Quentin jerked his chin away then grabbed the whiskey bottle.

“No, I won’t forget about it,” Eliot said sitting up and grabbing the bottle away from Quentin. “I know that look. It’s the look you get when you think you’ve done something wrong. I just don’t see what you did wrong here.”

“I gave the key away!” Quentin snapped. “Like five seconds after I got it by the way.” He stood, grabbed the bottle from Eliot’s hands and walked over closer to the water. Eliot stood up and followed him.

“Why did you give it to her?” he asked in that ever patient tone Eliot could always somehow keep when Quentin felt like screaming.  
“She needed it to create the time loops,” Quentin said darkly taking a swig. “Like I said.”

“Ok, are you not seeing how much of a drama queen you’re being right now?” Eliot asked, barely keeping the smile out of his voice. Quentin spun around to face him.

“We worked for almost 70 years for that fucking key,” Quentin said through clenched teeth. “You died for it and it was all for nothing. How are you not angry?”

“Q,” Eliot said putting an arm around him. “You gave her the key, she created the time loops which are kinda the reason we’re still alive right now. Are you really not getting this?” The 39 other timelines were something Quentin tried not to think about much. Especially since they had all ended in his death. Now though, with Eliot pointing this out, something heavy seemed to settle onto his chest.

“Jane once said I just kept coming, every timeline,” Quentin said slowly. “Julia and I helped her as a kid, and as an old man I gave her the-she recognized me!” Quentin ran his hands through his hair. Realizing how connected he was to this story was bringing a wave of panic with it. He suddenly felt like his whole life had been orchestrated and manipulated to further help Jane Chatwin screw with his life. “Does that mean we always go back in time?”

“I don’t know,” Eliot said slowly, watching Quentin carefully. “I guess, Q, you’ve always said it was us. Why is this such a surprise?” Quentin pulled away from him and moved a few feet away.

“Because it is us!” he exclaimed. “I mean think about it. Jane created the time loops after my death. I asked why me and she never gave me a straight answer. Now I know it’s because she needed me there to get the key. I mean, I know I’ve always wanted to be some chosen one but does this make me one because holy shit El, it’s kind of fucked up. Like some destiny that I have no actual control over my life. What if everything I’ve ever done or felt wasn’t real because-”

“Ok Q!” Eliot came over and grabbed the sides of Quentin’s face him to force him to stop and look at him. “You’re spinning. I get it, your mind is blown right and tail spinning is kind of your thing when that happens, but I need you to take a breath.” Eliot could always break through Quentin's panic and reach him. Quentin stared into his eyes and took a deep breath. Eliot watched him intently and didn’t remove his hands. “Good, you good?”

“I’m good,” Quentin whispered. Eliot nodded, he was running his thumb gently close to Quentin’s ear and he relaxed a little into that touch.

“Good,” Eliot smiled. “Now, all this sounds really big when you put it like that, but destiny is bullshit.” Quentin blinked, a little surprised. “You told me that. Life and the choices we made brought us here, not some higher power or bigger plan. According to those books, you are the reason Jane was able to make the time loops, but it wasn’t because of Jane or some destiny. It was because you made a choice. You choose to give her the key because it was the right thing to do. She needed it then and we able to get it to us now in the end so it doesn't matter that you gave it to her then. You did the right thing, even though it brought you pain. That’s some like hero shit, Quentin.” Quentin stared at him unblinking. Just as quickly as his panic had come on, Eliot’s words washed it away. How he was always able to do that, Quentin would never know.

Tired of waiting for Eliot to get over whatever it was keeping him away, Quentin grabbed Eliot’s face and kissed him. Eliot stiffened just a second before he melted into it. Quentin was struck by how familiar it was to be kissing him. Eliot brought his hand up to the back of Quentin’s neck and deepened the kiss. Quentin opened his mouth and the familiar feel of Eliot’s tongue sent a shock through his system. Quentin gripped the sides of Eliot’s face as he tried to keep himself standing. Just as he could feel Eliot getting just as excited as he was, Eliot pulled back. They rest their foreheads together and slowly started to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this no puzzle day is even longer than I thought so I need to break it up at least one more time. There is much more to come! Thanks for the kudos and comments, they mean the world to me. Let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

A couple of hours later Eliot woke to a stunning blue sky and Quentin wrapped in his arms. They had made out for a while, rediscovering that part of each other, groping and fumbling a little bit but it had been easier than Eliot thought it would be. After a while the alcohol seemed to get to them and they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s limbs. Eliot moved so he was sitting up against the tree they had settled under. Quentin made a small noise of complaint but settled quickly and wrapped his arms tighter around Eliot’s hips, his head settled now on Eliot’s lap. Eliot ran his fingers through Quentin's hair and smiled down at him.

 Eliot wasn't surprised that Quentin had kissed him first. As much as he loved to tease Quentin for his awkwardness and his tendency to over-think every situation, Quentin was much braver than Eliot gave him credit for. He knew what he wanted and was wasn't ashamed of the things he loved and went for it. He was forever envious of Quentin’s ability to do that. He thought about how he had grown up in a small town full of people with smaller minds. He learned from a young age that if you ever let your true feelings show, hell would rain down.  He wondered if after everything and through all his bravado he was still that scared kid hiding in the closet. His demons ran deep and that fear they would take everything good away from him was like a stone that sat right in the middle of his stomach. In a way he felt like he just got Quentin back and losing him right now was something Eliot didn't see himself coming back from. A shiver ran through him and he tightened his hold on Quentin.

 “Hey,” Eliot was pulled from his thoughts and he looked down at Quentin’s sleepy, smiling face.

 “Hey,” He said back with a smile. Quentin pushed himself up on his knees, then swayed slightly and leaned against Eliot with a giggle.

 “How am I more drunk now?” He asked.

 “You never cease to disappoint Q.” Eliot said kissing his cheek. Quentin smiled proudly and started looking around.

 “Might as well drink some more.”

 “Is that a good idea?” Eliot asked amused. Quentin pouted at him.

 “That is not a question you’re allowed to ask on no puzzle day.” he reminded him.

 “Alright,” Eliot said with a laugh. “Just make sure you leave some for me.” Quentin crawled a few feet away and found the half empty whiskey bottle and took a drink from it. He sat down and stretched out his legs as he passed the bottle to Eliot.

 “Why do you look so broody?” He asked as Eliot took a drink.

 “I don’t look _broody_.” Quentin rolled his eyes and took the bottle back from Eliot.

 “You so do.” He chuckled. “You were all frowny when I woke up. Got to be honest, little shot to the ego.” Eliot smiled.

 “Really?” He said. “I frown and your ego is hurt?” Quentin nodded as he took a drink.

 “I would like to think if someone had me sleeping in their arms they would never frown. So yeah,” He held up his finger and thumb close together for empathizes. “Little shot to the ego.” Eliot smiled and moved over to him. Placing his hands on either side of Quentin’s hips, he brought his face close to Quentin’s.

 “And what would you like to wake up to see?” He asked. Quentin laughed and moved even closer to Eliot.

 “Well, there are many ways to answer that question.” He got so close their lips were just barely touching. “But answer my question first.” Quentin pulled back quickly and raised his eyebrows proudly. Eliot dropped his head down with a groan and sat back, taking the whiskey bottle with him.

 “I’m allowed to frown Quentin.” He pointed out as he took a drink.

 “Obviously.” Quentin said sitting up straighter, crossing his legs together. “But there’s something bothering you and I just wish you would tell me.”

 “There’s nothing to tell.” Eliot said and leaned over and kissed Quentin. “We pulled off this band-aid didn't we?” Quentin scrunched up his nose with a frown.

 “Ok, now I’m picturing a hairy, bloody band-aid.” he said grabbing the whiskey bottle from Eliot.

 “Hairy?” Eliot asked. “That’s gross.” Quentin shrugged as he swallowed the whiskey.

 “It’s my brain, I don’t control it.” Eliot snorted. “But I asked you earlier why you wouldn't kiss me and you never answered.”

 “Did I just not kiss you?” Eliot asked. “And did we not just have a classic middle school make out session?” We pulled that hairy, bloody band-aid remember?”

 “Eliot, come on.” Quentin’s face grew serious. Eliot started to grab for the whiskey but then stopped.

 “What do you want from me Q?” He asked softly. Quentin scooted closer to him.

 “I want you to let go of whatever hang up you've got that makes you feel like you have to protect me from yourself.” Eliot scoffed at that.

 “God Q,” He muttered standing up a little unsteady. “Why does it matter?” He started to walk away from the blanket, the whiskey bottle hanging from his hand. Quentin got up and followed him.

 “It matters because I know there is more going on in your head. Whether it’s that you don’t think that you’re good enough or the Fairy Queen will do something so you don’t want to get too close, I don’t know.” Eliot stopped walking and he could feel Quentin stop behind him. “Eliot, I’m here and I’ll make all the first moves if you need me too, I just want to know why.” Eliot finally turned to him and just smiled sadly.

 “I’m a fuck up Q,” He said simply. “You know that.” Quentin crossed his arms.

 “Actually I don’t.” He said. “And I think I would know.” Eliot sighed and took a drink and then passed the bottle to Quentin.

 “Yeah, in the past. Where there was magic and it was just us. No one was trying to kill up or usurp us, it was like a dream.” Eliot pulled his arms around himself, he felt the need to physically hold himself together. “I will never measure up. Sooner or later I’m going to hurt you and I can’t do that. And you have options here, and I want you-”

 “Options?” Quentin interrupted. ‘What do you mean by _options"_  Eliot sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

 “I mean, we’re not forced to be with each other anymore and Alice is here, so is Julia and who knows who might pop up and tickle your fancy. I just don’t want you to think I expect anything from you.” Eliot explained. Quentin had crossed his arms now, and he was glaring at Eliot.

 “Forced?” Quentin threw his hands up. “Are you really telling me that after all this time _that’s_ how you saw our relationship?”  Eliot closed his eyes.

 “No Q,” He tried to say. “That’s not what I meant.”

 “What you meant.” Quentin spat and shook his head. “That the only reason we had anything was because there wasn't a better option for you. I don’t know why I’m surprised.” This time, Eliot glared at Quentin.

 “And what the fuck does that mean?” he asked.

 “It means I was always just a cute little nerd you wanted to fuck and thought it was entertaining having me follow you and Margo around like a puppy begging for your attention.” He said, his hands flying around as he spoke. “But then we got _forced_ together so you settled. Sorry I wasn't King Idri or some new first year boy.” Eliot shook his head and Quentin just shrugged, almost challenging him to fight back.

 “Fuck you Quentin.” He growled and turned away from him. “You were the one who never wanted me, not the other way around.”  he shot over his shoulder as Quentin quickly followed him.

 “Oh right," he said. “I abandoned you, the one note you can actually play” Eliot stopped walking but kept his back to Quentin. “But guess what, that’s not the fight we’re having right now. We’ll probably fight about that another fifty times but not now. Right now, we’re fighting about about the fact that you seem to think we had some kind of marriage of convenience or something.” Eliot spun around.

 “That’s not what I meant!” he yelled. “Stop twisting my words around so you can end up hurt!” Quentin didn't back down.

 “I seem to remember you taking advantage of many options over the years.” That had been true. Quentin and Eliot had an understanding in their relationship that they could sleep with whoever they wanted as long as they never lied about it. Eliot had had a few sexual partners over their mosaic lifetime. “And I don’t know if you forgot, but I had other options too. I married my other option!” Eliot brought his hand up to his eyes and rubbed them hoping to stop the headache that was now threatening him.

 “I had the choice to be with just Arielle, you gave me plenty of outs” Quentin reminded him. “I didn't want that though, I wanted you. More than her, I wanted _you._ I may not have been always clear on that in the past. Alice died and I didn't deal well with that. Julia was raped and I was partially responsible for that so that messed me up a little. Whether you believe me or not, I still wanted you, even back then.”

 “Quentin,” Eliot said softly.

 “Don’t you dare ever say I was forced to be with you.” Quentin pushed on. “‘I’m sorry you felt that way.” Quentin turned away from Eliot now and started walking away.

 “Wait!” Eliot rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “I didn't say I felt forced. And you were never _just_ a cute nerd to me, don’t ever say that. I just…” Eliot threw his head back with a frustrated sigh. “You see, I’m doing it right now. I’m fucking everything up. Look, let's just skip to where this is over with us because I’m an insecure asshole.” Eliot shook his head and walked away.

 “Eliot, this isn't you fucking up.” Quentin said following him. “This is us working out some pretty fucked up time travel shit. It’s going to be messy and we’re going to hurt each other but that doesn’t mean we give up.” He grabbed Eliot’s arm and forced him to look at him “We may not be stuck on a small patch of land doing the same task everyday anymore. Instead we have to get back to the key quest and sure Alice and Julia are here-”

 “And I may still be engaged to someone else. Also, if we do get magic back, I might not be able to anything with you anyway thanks to my other marriage.” Eliot pointed out.

 “Right,” Quentin said, looking as he just remembered that as well. “There are a million things that could keep up apart and none of that scares me nearly as much as the thought of losing whatever this is,” He motioned to the space between them. “This past week, it’s all I've had. So whatever happens, whoever comes into our beds, is it still you and me?” Eliot starred at Quentin’s face, full of fight and determination to get Eliot to see his side

 “What do you want from me Q?” He repeated his earlier question. Quentin’s face softened and he closed the space between then, placing his hand on the side of Eliot’s face and Eliot closed his eyes.

 “I want to know if you love me.” Quentin said simply. “In this lifetime, right now, do you love me? Because I love you.” Eliot’s eyes shot open.

 “Q,” He whispered. Quentin shrugged and smiled.

 “I know we don’t throw that word around lightly, never did, but come on El,” He brought his other hand to the other side of Eliot’s face and looked him right in the eye. “You have to know I love you.” Eliot brought his hand to the back of Quentin’s neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. Quentin kissed him back and all the of the angry tension flooded away and a new tension took its place. Eliot pulled back, resting his forehead against Quentin’s.

 “I love you.” he breathed and Eliot could feel his doubts melting away.Quentin smiled against his lips and kissed him. He started undoing Eliot’s belt.

 “Ok, how much longer do I need to wait?” Quentin asked. “Because I’ll make the first move again.” Eliot didn't say anything but pulled Quentin’s shirt swiftly off of him and kissed him hungrily. Quentin smiled and pulled Eliot’s belt free. “About fucking time.”

 

***********************

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Quentin finished getting dressed. Eliot was still laid out on the blanket on his side, completely nude eating an apple and flipping thought _Fillory and Further._  Quentin chuckled watching him as he pulled his hair back into a messy bun.

 “You gonna get dressed before Pak comes back to pick us up?” he asked with a smirk.

 “He would be so lucky to get such a view.” Eliot said biting into the apple. Quentin went over to him and leaned down to kiss him, tasting the apple when he did.

 “Yeah but it’s _my_ view, not his.” He pointed out.

 “Oh, possessive.” Eliot said raising an eyebrow. “I like it.” He pulled Quentin down so he was lying next to him and started lazily kissing him. Quentin kissed back for while before pulling back.

 “How much time do we have?” he asked.

 “You wanna go again?” Eliot asked with a smirk. “Ambitious Coldwater.” He kissed Quentin again.

 “Not that ambitious.” Quentin said pulling back with one more small kiss. “I just want to know how much time we have until we go back.” Eliot groaned and rolled onto his back.

 “Uh, going back.” He muttered letting his arm rest on his forehead. “Back to all the people who hate us and want us banished or dead. And Margo.” He pouted. Quentin laid down on Eliot’s chest, letting his arm hang loosely around Eliot’s waist.

 “Do you think you can actually have a real conversation with her?” he asked.

 “Do I have too?” Eliot whined. Quentin pushed himself up so he was looking down at Eliot now.

 “You miss her.” he said. “It’s time you kiss and make up.” Eliot poked Quentin’s nose.

 “You’re cute.” he said. Quentin shook his head with a smile.

 “You’re hopeless.” He rolled off of Eliot and stood back up looking around for the bottle of whiskey.

 “Where even are my clothes?” Eliot asked sitting up. Looking down at his feet Quentin found Eliot’s pants and tossed them over to him.

 “You’re on your own for the rest.” He said finally finding the whiskey. He took the bottle and sat down to drink it and watched as Eliot stumbled around collecting his clothes.

 As he took a drink he thought about how much he didn't want to go back either. Quentin knew the quest and the real world were waiting for them. He and Eliot couldn't stay in their post-mosaic bubble for much longer. He was getting a clearer idea where the next key was and things in Fillory were reaching a boiling point. They soon had to rejoin the others and carry on as if their lifetime together hadn't even happened. He thought he had been doing a good job at keeping those thoughts at bay. He was definitely doing better than Eliot. He locked Quentin in his room and had refused to kiss him in fear of shattering their hazy afterglow. Now Quentin realized he had only had a thin layer of control that separated the thoughts he was keeping back and now he and Eliot had finally reached this point it seemed to bring his control level to zero.

 After the initial shock of all of those memories coming back, the first thing he did was lock away the memory of Eliot dying. Over the past week it had popped up and brought the pain and grief he never finished processing flooding Quentin’s whole body and he was shocked every time. He remembered what he felt when he lost other people he had loved. When Alice had burned into a niffin, he felt panicked and guilty. He lost himself trying fix her or save, anything to make up for what he had done. He remembered walking up to the mosaic with Rupert on his shoulders to find Eliot sitting outside sobbing and Arielle dead inside. The pain he felt then was so consuming he actually blacked out for a few days. All he remembered was laying in the bed she died in and Eliot coming in and out. But turning around and realizing Eliot was dead was a level of pain Quentin had never experienced and he didn't think he would ever heal from it. Even with Eliot alive right in front of him. It almost made it worse. Like he had some weird premonition at to just how badly he could feel and someday he would be forced to relive it.

 “Hey,” Eliot, fully dressed now was running his fingers over the top of Quentin’s head. He had been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even feel his fingers until Eliot spoke.

 “Hey,” Eliot looked him over thoughtfully and then sat down next to him.

 “You doing ok?” He asked as Quentin leaned onto his shoulder.

 “Of course,” He said taking a drink and then passing the bottle to Eliot.

 “You know,” Eliot said taking a drink. “You were the one who wanted us to ask the uncomfortable questions today.”

 “I think we covered everything.” Quentin said frowning. Eliot bit his lip in thought for a second.

 “Q, what happened when I died?” The question felt like a punch and Quentin closed his eyes against the cold and panic that began to build inside him.

 “Eliot, please.” He said opening his eyes and pleading to Eliot.

 “Quentin,” He felt Eliot take his hands. “All day you've asked me to open up and be honest with you and I didn't want too, but you pushed like you always do. And I feel better for it. So please, tell me what we can do to make this easier for you.”

 “Forget about it.” Quentin said pulling his hands away. “That’s how.” He grabbed the whiskey bottle and got up. Eliot stayed seated and was quiet for a minute.

 “You know we can’t do that.” He finally said.

 “No actually we can.” Quentin said turning to him. “This isn't like your fight with Margo or why we weren't having sex. Those are things we can actually fix. This is something that doesn't even matter because you’re alive, problem solved.” Quentin took a drink and started to walk over to the water's edge.

 “It’s not about fixing anything.” Eliot said standing up.

 “There’s no point in dragging this up.” Quentin said darkly. He turned away from Eliot and stared out at the lake as the sun hit the horizon.

 He didn't think he could talk about this. He didn't think the words could get past the panic in his throat. Eliot came up and stood beside him. He didn't say anything or look at Quentin. Just looked out at the water with a peaceful look on his face.

 “I remember it.” Quentin looked at him sharply, surprised by this confession. “It’s hazy and more memories of feelings instead of memories itself.” Eliot reached over and took the whiskey from Quentin’s hand and took a drink before passing it back.

 “What do you remember?” Quentin asked not really knowing if he wanted the answer.

 “I remember I had this feeling inside me. I felt calm and some of my aches and pains seemed to be gone. Then I remembered when Arielle died, she told me that she wasn't in pain anymore.” Quentin took a drink at the mention of Arielle’s death and Eliot reached out for his hand. “I started to think that it must be my time.”

 “You knew?” Quentin asked.

 “That’s why I sent for Rupert.” It was the first time either of them had said their sons name out loud and Quentin’s heart clenched at the sound of it.

 About a week before he had died, Eliot insisted they invite Rupert around for dinner. Rupert had his own family by then. They lived about a day’s journey away so they didn't get to see him as often as Quentin especially would have liked. He was sure though, every parent thought that about their kids. Eliot enchanted a letter and two days later Rupert came walking up the path. He and Eliot spent the day together while Quentin worked on the mosaic. The three had a wonderful dinner and for just that night it felt like old times when it had just been the three of them.

 “I remember you were insisting we use blue where I had wanted to use yellow.” Eliot said going on. “And then I remember thinking that I was so lucky that this had been my life.” He smiled over at Quentin. “That you had been in my life.” Quentin smiled and leaned into him. “And that’s all really. There’s not really anything after that”

 “Wow.” Quentin said softly putting his arms around Eliot.

 “Yeah,” Eliot said hugging him back. “So what happened next?” Quentin closed his eyes and pressed his face against Eliot’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

 “I tore every tile off of the mosaic and I swore that I was done. Magic could stay gone because I didn't care anymore.” He felt ashamed about this now, but Eliot just calmly rubbed his back. “Then I wrapped you in our blanket and started to dig your grave.” Eliot wrapped his arms around Quentin tightly.

 “Jesus Q,” He said resting his chin on Quentin’s head. Quentin clenched Eliot’s shirt in his fists.

“But, uh, there was a this golden tile in the ground. I could feel the magic coming off it so I placed it in the middle of the mosaic and that was that. There was the key.” Quentin pulled back and looked up at Eliot. With tears in his eyes, Eliot gently stroked his face.

 “After I gave the key to Jane, I just kind of walked around for an hour. Then I buried you.” Quentin let his head fall back onto Eliot’s chest. “I stayed by you all night feeling like I failed everyone, but I could hear your voice in my head.”

 “What did I say?” Eliot asked softly.

 “Not to stop now.” Quentin said smiling. “So I made a plan. I wrote to Rupert and explained what happened and what I would need him to do. I sent him the letter I wrote to Margo and I thought if it all worked then at least she could get the key and this whole thing wouldn't have been for nothing.” Eliot smiled proudly.

 “Good thinking.” He said. “How long after this did you…” He trailed off unsure of how to ask how Quentin died.

 “I don’t know.” Quentin admitted. “I only remember staring at the empty mosaic. I don’t know if I died or just stopped existing after that.” Eliot tucked some of the hair that fell from where Quentin had it tied up behind his ear.

 “I’m so sorry.” He said. “I’m sorry you had to do all that.” Quentin nodded, his eyes filling with hot tears.

 “You know what’s weird.” He said trying to hold back his tears. “I feel like I still miss you even with you right here. But maybe it’s not you really, it’s everything else.” Eliot nodded.

 “I know what you mean.” He said. Quentin looked up at him, his tears finally spilling over.

 “I miss them.” Eliot pulled him in close and let Quentin cry against his chest.

 “I miss them too.” Eliot told him as he stroked his hair. “I miss when we were all together. I miss teaming up with Arielle to tease you.” Quentin smiled and laughed through his tears.

 “Of course,” He said and Eliot chuckled.

 “I miss Rupert.” Eliot said tears coming to his eyes. “I miss him in ways I didn't think it was possible. Even when he was a surly teenager and bitched about how he needed his own space and we thought it would be fun to try it without magic.” Quentin laughed as he wiped his eyes.

 “God, that was a bad idea.” He said. They decided they would build Rupert a bigger room off the back of the house and to do it with their own hands. That idea was quickly squashed when they spent a hour fighting over what tool did what. They ended up just doing it with magic.

 “He didn't even appreciate our hard work.” Eliot chuckled.

 “Kids.” Quentin scoffed shaking his head. Eliot kissed the top of his head and sighed.

 “See, you don’t need to mourn me Q, because I’m right here." he said. “But we need to mourn them. Especially Rupert.” Quentin locked his arms around Eliot and they watched in silence as the sun slowly began to disappear and the air brought a sudden chill.

 “Do you-” Quentin cleared his throat. “Do you think he was ok? That his life after we were gone was a good one?”

 “Oh yeah,” Eliot said with a confident smile. “We raised a good man, he had a wonderful life. He found that amazing woman to love.”

 “Mara,” Quentin said with a smile remembering his daughter in law who used to ask to hear about Harry Potter all the time.

 “And lucky for him she was an amazing cook.” Eliot said. “Because that poor boy sadly inherited his father’s cooking skills.” Quentin laughed and poked Eliot’s side playfully.

 “At least he picked up your fashion sense.” Quentin said. “Evens out really.”  Eliot grinned.

 “Couldn't even boil water but knew how to dress.” Eliot giggled. “Perfect mix between us.”

 “We did do good.” Quentin said. Eliot nodded and he looked back out at the water.

 “He got that letter to Margo. Either him somehow, or he made sure it got delivered. He helped us get that key.” Quentin looked up at Eliot.

 “He did,” Quentin said the realization of that almost took his breath away. He hadn't really thought about how Margo actually ended up with that letter and who did that. Realizing now that Rupert had followed his instructions made him feel warm all over. Rupert was involved in this key quest, in a way it made Quentin feel close to his son again.

 “He was a better man than both of us put together.” Eliot said kissing his forehead. “He lived a long and happy life and died an old man. Just like we did.”

 Quentin looked up at Eliot gratefully ad they shared a smile before Quentin noticed the royal carriage was now making its way toward them. He noticed Eliot saw it too and the stress almost creeped back into his face. He reached up and smoothed back some of his hair.

 “You and me?” He asked. Eliot smiled.

 “You and me.” He promised. Quentin smiled and the kissed him, standing on his toes and wrapping his arms around Eliot’s neck. When they pulled back Eliot was smiling.

 “One more thing.” He said and quickly went over to the bags they had packed up just before Quentin got dressed. He pulled out a bottle of vodka this time, the expensive kind, with a devilish grin. Quentin laughed.

 “Seriously, how much stuff did you take?” He asked as Eliot handed him the two glasses they had abandoned earlier.

 “Not enough,” Eliot said pouring their drinks. He took one of the glasses from Quentin and held it up. “One more toast.” He said and Quentin smiled.

 “To Arielle and Rupert.” He said holding up his glass. Eliot nodded and as they clinked their glasses the sun finally disappeared and the carriage came to a stop.

 

********************************

It was well into the night when they returned to Castle Whitespire. Quentin realized as they stumbled out of the carriage that they had drank way too much. They had to support each other as they walked to Eliot’s room. They laughed against each other as they crashed into a wall.

 “You are really not good at this.” Eliot said pushing off the wall.

 “You’re too tall.” Quentin whined as he tried to maneuver Eliot’s much taller frame.

 “You’re too short.” Eliot said pulling Quentin over to his side a little.

 “You’re too drunk!” Quentin shot back.

 “You’re not drunk enough.” Eliot almost tripped which would have sent them both falling to the ground but together they were able to steady themselves which just caused them to laugh even more. They finally pulled themselves together enough to go in the right direction.

 As they passed by Margo’s room, Quentin saw her peeking out her door. It was harder to read her now that she only had one eye. Quentin always thought the mask that Margo wore was so convincing that her hard shell almost appeared to be real. Her eyes though were her biggest tell to her true feelings. They were these big brown pools overflowing sometimes with everything she felt she could never say. Now though, it was easier for her to hide, like she was now. She ducked her remaining eye close to the door frame covered in shadow. Quentin could only see the glint of the eye patch she wore. Her hands gripped her door frame and her knuckles went white as they passed then she disappeared into her room.

 Quentin dropped Eliot onto the bed and he rolled onto his stomach with his face hanging off the side of the bed and like always he seemed to pass right out. Quentin slipped off his shoes as he sat on the side of the bed. He took off the messenger bag he had hung around his shoulder and took out his copy of _Fillory and Further_ and placed it on the nightstand.

 He was still trying to understand the whole time travel being responsible for him being the catalyst to the time loops that had basically made his life living hell as of late. He wondered if Dean Fogg had known. He not only knew about the time loops, he remembered them all. He knew about the Beast and that Eliza had actually been Jane Chatwin. He probably had been in on it. Quentin sat up straighter as he remembered something.

 During his first week at Brakebills, Eliot told him that he wasn't even supposed to be helping with the incoming would be students. Dean Fogg had approached him that morning out of the blue and handed him a card with the name of a student he was told must not be late. Eliot then had leered at him suggestively.

  _“It must be destiny.”_

 Suddenly it felt like Dean Fogg had set everything up. He didn't know what was orchestrated by him and Jane to see what they would all do now if they just tweaked this or that. More frightening, he didn't know what was a genuine thing that happened to him in all this.

 “I can hear you thinking.” Eliot’s voice sounded rough from where he had not moved on the bed “I’m trying to sleep here.”

 “Sorry,” Quentin said getting into bed fully. He laid down on his back and nervously tapped his fingers on his arm.

 “What is it that’s making you so jittery?” Eliot asked lifting up his head.

 “It’s, uh, it’s nothing.” Quentin stammered. Eliot groaned as he maneuvered his body so he was able to get his head on his pillow.

 “No it’s something.” He said nuzzling his face into his pillow. “Either tell me or get better at pushing your emotions down.” Quentin sighed.

 “Do you think Dean Fogg knew we would go back in time and that I gave Jane the key?” Eliot cracked an eye open and watched as Quentin kept talking. “I mean why would he have you meet me before my exam when you weren't even supposed to do that? Did he need us to meet right then for it all work? Does he have to make us meet every time or some loops you do it voluntarily?”

 “Oh my god.” Eliot moaned shoving his face in his pillow.

 “This really doesn't freak you out?” Quentin asked feeling a little pissed that Eliot wasn't as worried about this as he was.

 “No, it doesn't.” Eliot said turning his face back to Quentin. “Who cares if Henry set us up or not, I’m happy with the result so I won’t complain. Now let’s go to sleep.” He hugged his pillow and again buried his face.

 “Well do you think when we first met that we had already gone back in time? Was that really the first time we met or did us meeting start the path to go back?” Quentin asked.

 “No,” Eliot said into his pillow. Quentin crossed his arms.

 “You don’t even wonder?” He asked.

 “No,” Eliot moved so he was laying on his side facing Quentin. “I kinda knew I already knew you.”

 “You did?” Quentin asked looking down at him.

 “Yeah,” Eliot looked at him briefly then he closed his eyes and brought a hand up that he tucked under his cheek. “When we met I felt it. Like this knocking inside my brain that was telling me you were here. Like I had been waiting for you and I didn’t even know it until then.” Quentin smiled fondly at him and moved so he was mirroring Eliot’s position.

 “I thought you said destiny was bullshit.” He reminded him. Eliot opened his eyes.

 “You and I aren’t destiny Quentin.” He said. “We’re just inevitable.” Eliot then leaned over and kissed Quentin softly  before settling back and closing his eyes.

 Quentin watched him and listened as his breathing evened out and he knew Eliot was asleep. He smiled and then reached out and traced his finger along Eliot’s face. Feeling calmer Quentin could finally let go of those questions for now. He knew he would obsess over them again. Destiny or not, the whole thing was overwhelming. For right now though, he could sleep on it all being inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is still more to come, not all issues have been addressed just yet. Thank you all for comments and kudos! It fills my heart with joy! Let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

Margo spent most of her life content at being alone. Romantic relationships never interested her and she never had real friends or family connections growing up. She had gone to boarding school and during the school year would only see her parents when they dropped her off in the fall and picked her up for the summer before being whisked away for summer camp. She received the obligatory bland holiday and birthday cards, and she wrote them generic letters that she made sure never included asking to come home. For most of her childhood, her memory of her parents were like those kids cartoons where the adults were hidden figures or strange voice that she only pretended to understand.

She knew they were busy, they both worked as lawyers for some of the most important names in Hollywood and they always made sure she knew their work came first. If she ever did bring up the idea that they might spend a little more time with her, she was quickly met with reminders that it was their work that gave her the beautiful house she lived in. It brought her the expensive clothes she enjoyed and not to forget her fancy schools. She trained herself to want material things over the love she never felt from her parents.

Margo had no memory of hearing words of love come from either of her parents. Except for the one time she heard her mother say it to her father. She was spying on them one night as they dressed to go to a party. Her father was reminding her mother to not drink too much tonight. Someone important was going to be there and he didn’t need her to embarrass him. Her mother was quiet as she finished applying her makeup, staring straight into the mirror. As she put on her earrings she stood and asked how she looked. Her father looked her up and down then nodded. He told her that she looked beautiful. The look that came over her mother’s face then was one that Margo had never seen.

She looked amazed and hopeful suddenly. Like she had just taken a fresh breath of air after holding it for longer than she was told she’d have too. It was a strange vulnerability that didn’t match the hard and judgemental woman that Margo knew her to be. It was like an alien had suddenly taken over her mother’s body and Margo felt uncomfortable. She didn’t understand how a man who treated their dogs better than he did her on most days, would warrant such a strangely beautiful look. She waited until her father’s back was to her

_“I love you.”_

The words sounded foreign on her tongue and Margo watched as her father stiffened. Her mother stood still as well, and Margo noticed she still looked hopeful which made her ache for her mother in a way she never had. Margo held her breath as she waited for her father’s response, becoming more aware by the second this was a bigger issue that her 10-year-old self could really understand.

_“You might want to only talk to your girlfriends tonight, we can’t have you saying every thought that crosses your mind. I’ve told you how unattractive that is haven’t I?”_

Her father never even turned to look at her as he spoke. He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he walked out the door that lead to his study. He would need to have a few glasses of brandy before they left because no one ever cared how much a man had to drink at these parties. Her mother stood perfectly still in the middle of their room until she heard the telltale clink of the brandy bottle and then she threw herself onto the bed in tears. Margo ran back to her room then. She climbed into bed and hid under the covers. She knew that night that love would never hurt her like that.

“Remind me to never drink again.” Margo had just barely opened her door when Eliot’s voice drifted down the hall. Just like when she was a kid, Margo ducked down and pulled the door open just enough for her to peek out.

“I have reminded you a million times and it never seems to do any good.” Quentin was leaning on the doorframe to Eliot’s room with his arms crossed and his messy hair covered most of his face. Eliot was standing across from him dressed and with his crown on. Though he seemed to be pretty worse for wear otherwise.

“Then you should find other ways to help me remember not too,” Eliot said suggestively, rocking a bit on his feet.

“Actually, I don’t see the point,” Quentin said running his hand through his hair and Margo could see he looked pretty terrible himself. “You’re gonna drink again and feel horrible again, no stopping that.” Margo almost smiled at the obviousness of Quentin.

“Q!” Eliot whined. “You’re supposed to suggest sex things!” Quentin stared at him blankly for a few seconds before he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m too hungover to think of something,” he admitted. “You just think of something we’ll say that.” Eliot laughed and then straightened his crown.

“Wish me luck,” he said trying to sound cheerful.

“You don’t have to go you know,” Quentin said looking like an extra sad puppy.

“I do,” Eliot said moving forward a step. “It’s important and I’m sure the people won’t be as angry this time.”

“El, you’re hungover.” Quentin pointed out. “That’s not really something that would, I don’t know, instill confidence in the minds of the people for their leader.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Eliot said waving his hand. “You wouldn't believe the things I managed to accomplish hungover, or drunk for that matter.” Quentin rolled his eyes but smiled.

“Well, I still don’t think you should go.” He said.

“You’re cute,” Eliot said stepping fully over to Quentin now. Close enough that he dragged his finger over Quentin’s chest. “You get your beauty sleep and I’ll be a charming King. When I get back then it’ll be my turn to pass out and possibly puke.” Eliot was leaning into Quentin now and he didn’t even seem phased. He just looked up at Eliot adorningly.

“How romantic,” he said. Eliot nodded then he leaned down and kissed Quentin. Margo’s eye widened. That wasn’t a friend kiss like they used to share. It also wasn’t a first kiss. Margo had actually witnessed their first kiss, and this wasn’t even like that one. This was a kiss of old habit, quick and familiar. It was one that seemed almost more intimate than most of the sex Margo had ever had. It was a kind of kiss that had real love behind it.

She heard Eliot’s door close and then footsteps making their way closer to her door. Margo shut the door and sat against it with her heart pounding. She felt like she as a kid again and the need to hide under the covers came over her. She settled for pulling the fur shaw she wore around herself tighter. They had lied to her. Eliot had lied to her. He told her over and over that nothing outside of the quest was happening with Quentin. They both told her. They told her so much that Margo had started to think she was crazy, but she had been right. She expected to be angry or at the very least jealous, but all Margo felt was empty.

If she was honest with herself, she hadn’t given either much of a chance to explain. She had come at them with accusations and attitude. She needed to talk to Eliot and try again. She quickly went out in the hall hoping to catch him before he left. She was lucky and found him not far, talking to Tick. Once Eliot was done with their conversation he turned and was surprised to see Margo standing there.

“Hi,” Margo said awkwardly.

“Oh,” He said looking as uncomfortable as she felt. “Hi,” He looked away from her, only able to meet her eye for a few seconds at a time.

“I know our last conversation didn’t go so well.” She started folding her hands in front of her.

“That’s an understatement,” Eliot muttered. Margo’s hand went up as she crossed her arms, she almost felt like a cat arching its back.

“I’ll just get down it.” She said. “Everything I say seems to just piss you off and I don’t know why or what to do.” Eliot finally looked at her for real and she could see a flash of sadness go across his face. Margo felt a twinge of hope bloom inside her.

“I know,” Eliot said with a sigh. “I don’t know how to talk about it yet,” he admitted.

“You mean you and Q kissing in the hallway?” Margo asked. Eliot looked taken aback.

“Did you spy on us?” He asked.

“Well, it’s not like you guys were being all secretive about it just now.” She said and Eliot shook his head with a frustrated grin.

“I don’t believe this.” He said and then he turned to walk away but Margo grabbed his wrist before he could. Eliot pulled his hand back so sharply and with such an upset look on his face that Margo took a step back.

Eliot’s eyes widened slightly and a look of regret fell on his face. She knew he didn’t mean to react like that to her touch logically, and his face told her that he felt bad. In the past, she would have understood and they would move on not even thinking twice. Now though, it was added to the growing pile of resentment that was filling the space between them. Then the anger roared back into Margo’s heart.

“Fuck you.” She said coolly. She turned and walked away before he said anything. The image of her mother crying on the bed came to her and Margo remembered not to look back.

**************

Brakebills was the place where Margo began to understand what love was really about. That was where she began to change. It had been slow, so slow she barely noticed it at first. Eliot slipped past her shielded heart and he was the first person to tell her he loved her. It was the first time someone hadn’t said it out of passion during sex or some poor sap who got too attached. It was the first time she believed it. She struggled at first with how to handle these feelings she had no idea about. It also took time to understand what the love between her and Eliot meant. Worse came when she realized she would have to share him.

Their twosome had grown steadily once they met Quentin. He and his dumb, big heart just seemed to pull this ragtag group of people, who could honestly barely stand each other, together. Penny and Kady seemed fine to her. They were actually fun at parties and never tried to delve too deep into things that weren’t their business. They were also usually so distracted by each other, they kept just the right amount of distance from Margo and she respected that. Julia was someone she didn’t trust, despite what Quentin kept telling her. She knew she was helping with this quest and had her shade back, but it would take more than that to convince Margo that she had changed. Even feeling that way towards her though, Margo tentatively accepted Julia’s place in their strange little family

Alice had fascinated Margo at first. She came from this whole magical family and Margo wondered what it must be like to have something like in common with your family. She wondered if that was what was wrong with her and her parents. There was also something in the way that Alice carried herself that made Margo take notice. Closed off and distrusting of the world. It reminded Margo of how she felt but kept buried. She wondered if this was a sign that there could be some connection between them. She saw the way Eliot had quickly bonded to Quentin and she felt the competitive need to catch up. Alice picked up right away that Margo didn’t know how to be genuine though. They never really got along after that. Although despite telling Eliot she didn’t care, she had cried all night after Alice died.

Of course, there was Quentin. He was one of the two people in her life that she could admit to herself to loving. She found that she was a softer more gentle version of herself when she was around him sometimes. It made her feel good knowing that softness was apart of her. Despite that though, there was something between her and Quentin that she never tried to dwell on too long. From the beginning of their friendship with Quentin, Margo knew that the connection Eliot and Quentin shared had aspects that didn’t include her. Like she was always missing out on some punchline to a joke they never told her.

The night of the threesome she saw something between them she knew they didn’t. She had sex with Quentin first and Eliot had woken up in the middle. She switched over to him when Quentin was done, and he watched from the door. At some point though, he materialized behind her and she saw Eliot lock eyes with him over her shoulder and knew that was her cue to let them have a turn. As she watched them she was struck by how they seemed to move together. Like this was second nature to them and from what she knew about Quentin, this only confused her. They kept their bodies close, kissing and caressing each other in an intimate way that they hadn’t been with her. As they lay together afterward, Margo could see that even as they slept their bodies turned toward each other. She began to understand that if anything would come between her and Eliot, it might be Quentin. The next day when everything blew up in their faces, she channeled her jealousy right at Quentin and his selfish anger.Now she needed somewhere for the anger that she felt now and she knew just where it needed to go.

“Open up Coldwater!” She had waited two hours before banging on the door to Eliot’s room. It took Quentin about three minutes before he finally opened the door.

“Margo,” He groaned leaning on the door. “Now is really not a good time.” Margo just shrugged and shouldered her way into the room.

“So where did you two go yesterday?” She asked. Quentin shook his head as he shut the door.

“Not really anywhere.” He said dragging his hand through his hair. “Is that all?”

“You two obviously did some drinking.” Quentin threw his head back with a sigh.

“I guess not.” He said to the ceiling as he sat down on the bed.

“Must have been some day,” Margo said.

“I guess,” Quentin shrugged. “Margo, do you need something?” Margo laughed bitterly.

“I need a lot of things Q.” She said. “Things you and Eliot have deemed me unable to handle.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quentin said, shifting on the bed.

“How about how you and Eliot have lied to me over and over again about whatever the hell is going on!” She yelled at him. “Or how about that you and Eliot are fucking each other again!” Quentin looked surprised.

“He told you?” He asked. Margo felt a kick in her gut.

“No,” she said. “But you just did.” She shook her head and turned away from him. Quentin was quiet for a minute

“Whatever is happening between me and Eliot is our business, Margo.” He said slowly. “It’s not about you ok?” Margo turned to look at him.

“I’m not asking for the gritty details.” She said. “I thought we were friends though, and I have repeatedly asked.” Quentin looked down at his hands.

“That is true,” He admitted then looked up. “I really did want to talk to you, but Eliot-”

“Didn’t want to tell me?” Margo finished. Quentin just nodded. “He suddenly wants to keep secrets from me now?” She started pacing in front of the bed.

“It’s not about keeping secrets really.” Quentin tried to explain. She could tell he was uncomfortable and was trying not to give anything away that Eliot wouldn’t want him too.

“It is actually though.” She stopped right in front of him with her hand on her hip. “Eliot used to tell me everything. Things he never tells anyone. It took him a while to open up too, both of us really, but he finally felt comfortable to tell me about what happened to Logan Kinnear.” Quentin’s face hardened at that name.

“What are you trying to say?” He said sitting up straight.

“I’m saying that it took a lot for him to tell me that but he just offered up that story to you didn’t he?” Quentin held his arms close around himself as he stood and walked over to her.

“If you’re trying to imply something Margo,” He said slowly. “You should just say it.”

“Alright,” She said staring him down and crossing her arms. “Ever since you came along, you’ve been slowly pulling him away, making sure to have him all to yourself.” Quentin scoffed at that and shook his head. He rubbed a hand over his eyes then glared at Margo.

“Did you ever think that the reason Eliot hasn’t been telling you things could have something to do with you?” He asked. “Maybe after you almost got everyone involved in a war, or you traded his own child away to the fairies he might not trust you. That it could all be about you and not me?” Margo dug her fingers into her arms, enough that it would probably leave behind marks but it kept her from slapping him.

“You sure seem to have a lot of opinions on things you weren’t here for.” She reminded him.

“Oh, you want me to remind you of things I actually witnessed?” Quentin threw his hands up. “Alright then, after everything that happened with Mike, how were you there for him? You shoved alcohol and drugs down his throat didn’t you?”

“That was all Eliot,” Margo said through clenched teeth. “And if you want to talk about Mike, where the hell were you after that? Fucking Alice?” Quentin rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I had a girlfriend at the time.” He said. “But I was the one who was there that night. I was the one who Sunderland called to have me come pick him up off the dirty floor.”

“So because you were number two on his emergency contact list it makes it my fault that he got so deep into drugs and alcohol after killing his boyfriend?” Margo asked.

“No, but you did enable him.” Quentin accused. “You always did back at Brakebills. Kept him drunk and medicated so he would be as miserable as you.” This time Margo did slap him. Quentin turned his face away for a minute while they both collected themselves. It didn’t make her feel better but she was glad she did it.

“You don’t know me Q.” She said slowly. He finally looked her and nodded.

“Maybe I don’t,” He said. “But I know him.” Margo could feel her heart breaking inside her. She could see a cold wall build up in Quentin’s eyes, one that she had never seen from him before. Losing him seemed to hurt her more than she could have imagined. She shook her head and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” He asked and she spun around.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here.” She growled. She grabbed opened the door and Quentin started to follow her.

“We are finally getting somewhere and you want to bail?” He asked. “Don’t you even want to try to work this out?” Margo held up her hand in front him to stop him from coming closer.

“You have to stay in here,” She reminded him. “Can’t have anything bad happen to our precious Q now can we?” Quentin crossed his arms.

“Margo grow up.” He snapped. She opened her mouth to respond but suddenly Tick was pushing the door fully open with a small knock.

“Queen Margo?” He said coming into the room.

“Oh god,” Margo said rubbing her one eye. “Tick, tell Prince Fomar that sex is  _not_ happening today.” Tick just cleared his throat.

“That’s not what I’m here to tell you.” He said. She looked up and saw he looked stressed and his eyes darted between her and Quentin.

“What is it?” Quentin asked, all the fight seeming to leave him and worry taking over his features.

“It seems the High King was injured today in one of the villages.” He explained. “There was an incident with some angry villagers and it’s not clear what exactly happened but he was hit by something.” Margo felt cold all over and she swore she felt her heart stop. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quentin got deathly pale.

“Where is he?” Margo somehow got out.

“He’s been brought back to the castle.” Tick explained. “The healers are with him now. I’m afraid he has yet to regain consciousness.” All the air seemed to leave Margo’s body and her hands began to shake. She could see Quentin double over and she felt this strange pang to comfort him. She couldn’t move though so she just watched as he struggled to stay upright, tears filling his eyes.

“I need to see him.’ Quentin choked out.

“Well he’s just-” Tick started to say, pointing out the door.

“Quentin you’re staying here.” Margo interrupted. “The Fairy Queen will probably be nearby, we can’t have her see you remember?” Quentin turned his now tear-stained face to her and she thought he had looked angry before, but it turned out there were all new levels of angry on his face now.

“I don’t give a fuck about the Fairy Queen.” He shouted. “I am seeing him and no one is going to stop me!” He started to move forward and Margo stepped in front of him.

“Quentin!” She exclaimed. “Remember this is what Eliot wants. He wants to keep you safe. I thought you were all about honoring his wishes?”

“That was before he got himself hurt!” He brought his hands to his face and for a second Margo thought he was going to throw up. “I told him this-I told him this would happen!” He bent down with his hands on his knees and started breathing heavily. Any anger Margo may have been feeling was gone now. She rubbed his back gently encouraging him to breath slow.

“I can’t lose him again.” he was saying quietly to himself, Margo frowned and then looked back at Tick.

“Why don’t you go see how he is,” She told him. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” Tick nodded and quickly left the room. Margo turned her attention back to Quentin.

“I can’t lose him again.” He was still saying.

“Q, I’m going to find out how he is and I will come right back and let you know.” He looked up at that, his eyes wide.

“No,” He said. “I’m going.” He tried to run for the door again but Margo held him back.

“No,” She said. “I will handle this. I’m the High Queen and let’s be real, I’ve known him longer.” Quentin stopped struggling against her and looked at her with what she could only call loathing on his face.

“You think that you’ve known him longer?” He asked, his voice shaking. Margo was confused.

“Q,” She started.

“You know that letter I wrote?” He asked. “The one that said Eliot and I lived full and good lives.” Margo felt an uncomfortable chill come over her.

“What about that?” She asked.

“It was true.” He smiled sadly for a second before he glared at her again. “We did live a full and good life and we remember it all. Almost seventy years of it.” Margo felt like someone had dropped a bucket of ice water over her head and she couldn’t even blink.

“What?” She squeaked.

“Yeah,” He said pushing her hands off him. “We had a whole life together. Just us. So if this is about who has known him longer, I’m putting my seventy years over anything you have to say.” He finally was able to run around her and took off out the door.

Margo felt like she was floating. She tried to understand exactly what he said. They have lived a life together. Seventy years wasn’t something small either. It wasn’t just a little side quest, it was a life. One that she hadn’t been apart of, but it obviously meant a lot to them. Suddenly everything seemed to make sense. She thought about everything she’d said to Eliot over the past week. She felt her stomach drop as she remembered the last thing she’s said to him.

_"Fuck you."_

Somehow she made her way out into the hallway. She could see Quentin running down the hall, he turned a corner and gone from her sight. She was moving forward but she couldn’t feel anything. She thought about her parents. She thought she should have stuck to the one lesson they had taught her. Love would be the thing that would destroy her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do promise the "angst with a happy ending" tag is true. Thank you for all the love and support! Everyone has been so kind regarding this story and everything else I've written lately. I haven't written for about two years and sparring everyone the long and emotional details, getting back into writing was a little scary but I feel so supported and it's wonderful to feel that again. So thank you, everyone, it means more than I can say!


	10. Chapter 10

Eliot had been taken to one of the smaller rooms closer to the entrance of the castle. By the time Margo got there, two healers were hovering over him and Quentin was doing everything he could to get as close as they would let him Tick stood at the door talking quietly with Eliot’s favorite guard, who looked like he expected to be executed.

“Your Majesty,” Tick said stepping up closer to her. “Puck was just informing me that it was a rock that the High King was hit with. Margo looked at him sharply.

“A rock?” It was Quentin who spoke before she could. He had turned his attention their way and Margo saw his red, tear-filled eyes and his hand clenched into fists at his side. “Someone threw a rock at him?”

“Not threw,” Puck spoke up. “He was trying to calm the crowd that had gathered. They are unhappy with the High Queen’s recent marriage.”

“If they have a problem then they should come to me.” Margo snapped. “What is their deal with this anyway?”

“The Filliorans are wary of the union because of what kind of alliance it could mean.” Tick explained. “They are well aware that the only thing the Floaters can offer is a strong army. Naturally, it leads many to believe this is a step at getting involved with a war.”

“We’re not going to war,” Margo muttered looking back at Eliot’s still form.

“The High King was explaining that, but some of them didn’t believe him.” Puck cut in. “They started to yell and crowd him, there were only three of us with him. Then someone came up behind him and hit him over the head with a rock.” Quentin’s face crumbled at that and he sunk down in the chair next to Eliot and covered his face with his hands. Margo felt a chill go down her spine as she watched him.

“The one who did this is currently in the dungeon.” Tick said. “We’ll wait for your word on what to do next. I would suggest a stoning be in order.” Margo enjoyed the irony in that but she knew Eliot wouldn’t want it.

“Leave him for now.” She said as she stared at Eliot’s closed eyes. She silently begged for them to open. “The High King will decide what to do. He’ll do what’s right.” Quentin looked at her and she almost saw a smile on his face before he turned to the healers.

“How is he?” He asked.

“There’s nothing more we can do for him.” The senior looking healer said. “Rest is the only thing that will likely help.”

“Why hasn’t he woken up?” He asked, his voice growing stronger. “How long has he been like this?”

“It’s been about twenty minutes your Majesty.” Puck answered. “Luckily we weren’t that far from the castle.”

“Look at that,” Margo rolled her eye. “A silver lining.”

“He’ll wake up.” The other healer attempted to assure Quentin.

“When?” Quentin demanded. “Also, twenty minutes unconscious after a blow to the head seems a lot more serious than you are making it out to be!”

“We don’t detect anything life-threatening.” The senior healer explained. “He’ll wake up when he’s ready.”

“You don’t have magic!” Quentin yelled standing up. “You don’t know!”

“Quentin!” Margo called out firmly. Quentin sat without a word and the room fell silent.

Margo had seen Quentin mad before but never quite like this. Probably the closest was when he came to Fillory after releasing Alice from his back when she had been a niffin. He drank like a fish and had a nasty comment to anyone who would get close. This was different though. Watching him fight for Eliot she could suddenly see the seventy years he had mentioned.

“At what point do we start to worry?” She asked the healers, trying to remain calm because Quentin surely wasn’t doing it. “How long is too long?” The two women looked at each other.

“We really think he’ll be ok.” The senior one finally said. Margo wanted to strangle them. They couldn’t even come up with a bullshit time for them to focus on.

“They don't know,” Quentin said darkly.

“Ok,” Margo closed her eye. “Look, you guys are really not helping so just get the fuck out.” The women bowed their heads and then left quickly. Margo watched them walk out and standing just outside the door was the Fairy Queen. Margo looked sharply back at Quentin who had his back to her, his attention on Eliot.

“You two leave too,” Margo said to Tick and Puck. “If he’s not awake in another twenty minutes then the healers better get their shit together and do some fucking healing.” The two men nodded and left the room. Now that everyone had left, Margo watched Quentin take Eliot’s hand into both his and tucked it under his chin.

“Come on El,” He said quietly. “Don’t you leave me.” Margo tried to swallow past the lump in her throat and she turned to go speak with the Fairy Queen.

“Queen Margo,” The Fairy Queen said with that unsettling grin of hers. “It seems the missing King has returned.” Margo stood next to the Queen, her arms locked around herself in a guarded way. She didn’t face her, instead staring into the room and watched Quentin.

“He has,” She said slowly.

“You’ve been hiding him from me.” Margo looked at her now. She had suspected that the Fairy Queen knew about Quentin being back but to have confirmation made her worry.

“He won’t stay long,” Margo said trying to use her most disinterested voice. “He never does so he won’t be much use to you.” The Fairy Queen just continued to smile at her with that grin.

“Does his leaving upset you?” Margo was surprised by the question. Thanks to her black eyes, the Fairy Queen was almost impossible to read. Margo couldn’t tell if that she answered honestly that it wouldn’t backfire on her or Quentin. She decided not to answer.

“Can you use your fairy magic to fix Eliot?” She asked. The Queen finally looked away from her and into the room.

“What are you willing to sacrifice this time?” She asked turning back to Margo. “Another child?” She almost seemed to be challenging Margo and her first instinct was to step right up. Looking back at Quentin, she fought against that instinct.

He had reminded her of the things about herself she knew she had grown past. She had always gone for the quick fix for any problem that came her way. No one had ever taught any different. Her parents bought her way out of any trouble she got herself into. Brakebills had encouraged them to cheat. Magic itself was a quick fix that became her drug of choice. She decided drinking and drugs were the way to handle emotional problems instead of talking and working something out. It had gone well for her until Eliot killed Mike. She knew that was when the rift between really started.

When the Fairy Queen offered her to fix the Wellspring in exchange for Eliot’s baby she knew in her heart that she shouldn’t take the deal. Her other option though was to lose Eliot and she didn’t think beyond that. Now she realized the consequence of going for the quick fix weren’t always justified. The healers had already said he was fine. She was their Queen and she needed to trust them.

“Forget it.” She said. The Fairy Queen’s smile changed just a little and for a moment Margo thought she saw pride in her smile.

“The High King will be fine.” She said as she turned away. “And if the missing King has other places be then he better get there. Like you said, I have no use for him here.” Margo watched her walk away and when she was gone she went back into the room, shutting the door behind her.

She pulled up a chair across from Quentin and looked at Eliot who still wasn't awake. She took his hand, smiling when she found it warm. She looked across at Quentin, who was a mess. She had seen the two of them look at each other in many different ways, but the way Quentin was looking at Eliot now, it was a new look. He loved him in big kind of way. She expected her jealousy to creep in, but she found herself only comforted by his look. Whatever they had gone through in those seventy years, they had had each other she was glad for that.

“So,” She said quietly. “Seventy years huh?” He looked up at her, wiping his eyes.

“Uh, yeah.” He said. “Look, I’m really sorry. I said some things that I shouldn’t have and I didn’t mean to say it.” Margo just nodded.

“I know.” She said. “But some of the things you said were kind of true.” She muttered that out and ducked away slightly. Realizing to herself the flaws she had, she could handle, telling Quentin he’d been right about them was another thing.

“You said some things that were true too.” He said. “We were keeping things from you and that wasn’t fair. You don’t deserve that.” Margo smiled gratefully at him.

“Thank you,” she said. “I guess I could have been patient.”

“No,” Quentin said quickly. “We could have asked for privacy in a much-”

“Oh my god you two,” Eliot’s voice suddenly croaked. “My head is killing me and you two are seconds away from being the sad music part of a 90’s family sitcom.” They both looked at Eliot as he opened his eyes.

“Eliot!” Quentin cried and gently cradled his face, brushing his hair back. “Hey.” Eliot looked up at him and slowly smiled.

“Hey,” He said back and Quentin kissed him. Margo smiled, she thought this would take getting used too but she was amazed by how natural it felt for them to be like this. When they pulled apart, Eliot looked over at Margo.

“Bambi,” He said with a smile. Margo’s heart swelled and she leaned forward, still holding his hand.

“Look who decided to wake up.” She said trying to speak around the lump in her throat. He just smiled and took his hand from hers and then cupped her face.

“I figured the best cure of a hangover was a blow to the head.” He said and she laughed. “What happened anyway?” He dropped his hand from her face and looked at both of them.

“Someone hit you with a rock,” Quentin said. Eliot squinted at him.

“If that is your _I told you so face_ then I don’t want to hear it until the room stops spinning.”

“Eliot,” Quentin said, his eyes were still filled with tears. He shook his head and took a few deep breaths. Eliot reached for him this time and Quentin seemed to lose his battle with his emotions and burst into tears.

“Q, I’m ok,” Eliot said softly. Quentin nodded and tried to calm himself.

“You can never scare me like that again.” he barely got out. Eliot nodded and pulled Quentin to his chest and let him cry there.

“I’ll do my best.” He whispered. Margo was surprised at the tear that fell from her eye and she stood quickly.

“I’ll let the healer know you’re awake.” She saw the grateful look from Eliot and she smiled back. Leaving, she shut the door behind her and stood outside it. She would get the healers, but for right now she would give them some privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My medical knowledge is limited to Grey' Anatomy and basic first aid, plus you know they're in Fillory so *shrugs* hope it's ok. I think there's just one chapter left! Got to get these guys to actually talk.Thank you so much for the comments! Let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lied, not the last chapter. I decided I wanted this chapter to be on it's own. Then I realized how close I was to 13 chapters and got a little OCD about making it 13 chapters like 13 episodes of the show. So it will be one more chapter and an epilogue. Thanks for sticking by everyone! I really hope everyone has liked where this has gone and I hope it fits believably in between episodes 305 and 306. Enjoy!

There was this certain spot in the woods right by the mosaic where the sun would bounce off this rock at just the right angle and the air would fill with glitter. Like dust particles, they would float all around you and it would get quiet and Quentin could feel the air sharpen around him. It was like a place where everything made sense in those few moments that you could catch it.

 Eliot found it first and he dragged Quentin to see it one day. It was a few weeks after their first anniversary at the mosaic. He and Eliot agreed not to overthink the new feelings that had started to bloom inside of them. Both so afraid of ruining, not only their friendship, but the integrity of the quest as a whole. Everyone was counting on them to get this key and it meant they had to keep working together. It felt like if they talked about it, the world would come crashing down and they would ruin everything. They couldn’t afford to let feelings get in the way of the quest.

 Quentin couldn’t handle not thinking about it though. He needed some clarity on what they were. The things he was feeling were unlike how he felt about anyone before, even Alice. The more Eliot didn’t want to talk about it, the more sure Quentin was that what he felt was all one sided. He finally told Eliot that until he was able to give Quentin an idea of what he actually felt about him, he couldn’t go on with just having sex and not talking. So Eliot showed him the rock.

  _“Close your eyes Q,” Eliot stood behind him, his hands on his shoulders and his lips pressed against Quentin’s ear. “Do you feel that?” It was a broad question, and he couldn’t put a word to what it actually was; but he felt it._

  _“Yeah,” He whispered, leaning back into Eliot. He could feel Eliot’s heart beating against his back._

  _“This is how I feel about you.” Eliot said wrapping Quentin into his arms. “I don’t know how else to explain really. It’s just this. It’s pure and simple, and I don’t even have to think about it.”_

  _“If it goes wrong-” Quentin started to say and Eliot laid his chin on Quentin’s shoulder._

  _“If it goes wrong,” He kissed the side of Quentin’s neck. “This way I feel about you, it won’t go away.”_

  _“You say that now.” Quentin said holding onto Eliot’s hand that rested on his chest._

  _“Yeah I’m saying it now.” Eliot said with a smile. “Because I know that even if this all goes to shit, which knowing me the chances are ridiculously high; but even so it won’t stop me from feeling this when I think about you.” Quentin smiled and threaded his fingers through Eliot’s._

  _“Are you saying we’re a thing?” he asked._

  _“We’re like this rock Q,” Eliot said. “I’ve asked around and no one knows why this rock does what it does. There might be more, but it’s probably the only one.”_

  _“So what? We’re one a kind?” He smirked at Eliot who smiled back and then kissed his cheek._

  _“Basically,” he said. “We just are Quentin. Who says we have to put a label on whatever this is.”_

  _“Is this your way of avoiding making it real?” Quentin asked settling his head back to rest under Eliot’s chin. He felt Eliot chuckle._

  _“I’m trying to be romantic.” He said. “See, I want to show you romance, so does that answer your question?” Quentin smiled and turned in Eliot’s arms._

  _“It does,” he said. “You love me like this weird glitter rock.” Eliot laughed._

  _“I love you like this weird glitter rock.”_

 After that, whenever Quentin would overthink something between them, he’d go that rock and it would make sense again. Laying on Eliot’s chest now and listening to the comforting, steady beat of his heart; Quentin felt for the first time like they were back at that rock.

 Slowly, Quentin began to realize that he had fallen asleep and panic ripped through the calm haze that had settled around him. They had moved Eliot back to his room with orders to rest and to be woken every two hours for the next several hours. Quentin had fallen asleep and Eliot’s still form made his heart stop.

 “Eliot!” he gently grabbed Eliot’s face with his hands. “El, wake up!” Eliot groaned and rubbed his eyes.

 “Don’t tell me it’s already been two hours.” he whined. “I just want to sleep.” Quentin sighed in relief and dropped his face onto Eliot’s chest.

 “Oh shit,” he said, his voice shaking. He felt Eliot’s hand tug in the bun he had his hair in.

"Hey,” he said softly. “You ok?” Quentin tried to hold back the sob inside him, but he was too tired. Sitting back up he tried to take a steadying breath and Eliot ran his thumb along his cheek..

 “I don’t think I can do this El,” he cried.

 “Do what?” Eliot asked patiently.

 “What do you think?” Quentin asked tearfully as he stood up. “This quest, hell we don’t even know what the next key will do. We don’t know how long it’s going to take. Is it going to take another lifetime to get it?” Eliot blinked

 “I hope not,” he said.

 “We don’t know what it’s going to take from us this time. It’s already taken a lifetime from us.” Quentin wrapped his arms around himself and he hung his head for a second, a painful cry coming out of him. “If I lose you again, I don’t know what I’ll do.” He looked at Eliot and found a matching heartbroken face looking back at him.

 “Q, I’m right here.” Eliot whispered sadly.

 “How are we supposed to go and do this and feel like this?” He looked at Eliot desperately.

 “We just do.” Eliot said simply.

 “That’s not good enough.” Quentin said.

 “Well I’m sorry,” Eliot said. “But that’s all we’ve got Q. We knew what we were getting ourselves into. We agreed not to let how we feel about each other get in the way of the quest.”

"This isn’t fair Eliot.” He said. “We were happy. Now we come back and you almost get killed.”

"Q, I’m ok remember.” Eliot said calmly. Quentin shook his head and began pacing.

"Maybe we can find a way to go back.” Quentin said suddenly brightly. “Let the others finish it and we can go back to the mosaic.” Eliot just smiled at him sadly and held out his hand.

 "Come here,” he said gently. Quentin took a shaky breath, then moved over to him.

 Eliot tugged on his arm and Quentin climbed into the bed. Laying down on Eliot’s chest and closing his eyes, he tried to focus on controlling his panicked breathing. Eliot rubbed his back in a slow and soothing way and Quentin could feel the control coming back to him.

"I can’t do this” Quentin whispered breathlessly.

 “You can.” Eliot said. “This feeling your having it’s not about the quest. I got hurt and you’re scared and its ok. Just get it all out, you’ll feel better I promise.” Quentin nodded and quietly cried against his chest. They stayed like that for a few more minutes before Quentin finally felt the panic attack edge away enough that he could think more clearly now.

 “I think I know where the next key is.” Quentin said, curling his fingers into the material of Eliot’s shirt. “I was going to tell you when you got back.” Eliot didn’t say anything at first. He moved his fingers to trail them through Quentin’s hair. Quentin could hear Eliot’s heart speed up just slightly, so he reached over for his hand and squeezed it. He felt Eliot take a breath and his heart rate slowed back where it was.

 “So I guess it’s back to work.” he finally said. “Honeymoon’s over.” Quentin lifted his head so his chin rested on Eliot’s chest and he could look at him.

“You still think we can do this?” Quentin asked. “Seperate how we feel and get the job done?”  Eliot smiled at him and nodded.

 “If knowing you has taught me anything.” Eliot said gently cupping Quentin’s cheek. “It’s that if you love something, like really love, you in believe in it. I believe in you, and I believe in us” Quentin pushed himself up a little more so he and Eliot could properly look at each.

 “What if we have to sacrifice something big.” He said. “Quest like these don’t come free.” Eliot looked sad then and tucked a lock of hair that had fallen into Quentin’s face behind his ear.

 “If that happens,” he said slowly. “Then we have to agree to let it happen. We have to do the right thing Quentin.” Quentin pulled away from Eliot then and moved to the other side of the bed.

 “That’s bullshit.” He said said pulling his knees to his chest. “And something I don’t see you doing at all.” Eliot just shrugged next him.

 “We can’t see the future,” He pointed out. “The only thing we can do is plan that if everything goes our way-”

 “Right, because that always happens for us.” Quentin interrupted with a laugh. Eliot shot him a look.

 “That if everything goes our way,” Eliot continued. “We can get our happy, normal, not as boring as the mosaic because let’s face we’re Kings of Fillory again; but we get our life together again.” Quentin sighed and dropped down to move to Eliot’s side again.

 “What good will that do?” he asked clinging onto Eliot.

 “The same thing that when we would focus on how we needed to get the key.” He said, his fingers going back to Quentin’s hair to soothe him. “A purpose, one that we take one day at a time. We’ll see what happens when we get there.” Quentin looked at Eliot for a long time before he kissed him. Eliot kissed him back, his tongue darting into Quentin’s mouth to deepen the kiss. Quentin brought his hands to Eliot’s face and matched his intensity.

 It was the kind of kiss where they no longer knew the right way to deal with the situation at hand and all they had was the connection between them, so they would give in. Quentin didn’t know what was going to happen, but he knew that as long as they could come out of the other side of this together, then he would take it as a win. Magic or not. Pulling back, they rested their foreheads against each other and just breathed the other in before Quentin pulled back and stroked Eliot’s face.

 “You might be more convincing if your pupils weren’t so dilated.” He pointed out with a sad smile.

“I have a concussion.” Eliot said with a pout. “And I’m supposed to be sleeping.” Quentin smiled and kissed him again, gently this time.

 “I know,” He said. “I’ll let you sleep.” Eliot rolled his eyes affectionately.

 “You promise?” he asked. Quentin bit his lip.

 "Just one more thing I should probably tell you.” he said, quilt dripping in his voice.

 “Oh what did you do?” Eliot asked closing his eyes.

 “I told Margo.” He said sheepishly. Eliot looked confused for a second, before frowning slightly. “I didn’t mean too and I didn’t say much.” Quentin went on quickly.

 “Well how much?” Eliot asked, sitting up more himself.

 “Just that we lived our life and it was good.” Quentin explained.“She said she knew you longer,” Eliot sighed, but he was smiling, and run his fingers along Quentin’s neck.

 “Are you two going to be fighting over me for the rest of our lives?” He asked.

 “Are you two going to be fighting for the rest of our lives?” Quentin shot back. “We handled the situation with her wrong. We could have not told her but still let her know that we just needed some time. We didn’t have to shut her out like we did.” Eliot sighed and let his head fall back against his pillow.

 “I know,” he said. “Her and I have a lot to work out.” Quentin nodded.

 “And I’m not saying that you don’t.” he said. “I know this is more than just keeping our lifetime quiet, you guys have more to work out than that. But you have to start talking to each other for that to happen.”

 “I’ve tried.” Eliot said. “She’s the one who-”

 “Stop.” Quentin said grabbing onto his chin. It was Eliot’s go to move to get Quentin to pay attention. Eliot almost seemed surprised to have it turned on him. “No more excuses, no more pointing fingers. You two need to talk like the adults you are. Ok?” Eliot looked into Quentin’s eyes for a moment. Quentin could see him fighting with wanting to prove he was in the right and it was all Margo’s fault. He must have come to the same realization as Quentin though because he squeezed his eyes shut and then nodded.

 “Ok,” he agreed. He opened his eyes again and Quentin could see the sadness there that he knew well. He thought of this look as Eliot’s “missing Margo” look. One that, even after almost seventy years, and never thinking twice about the others; Quentin would see it in Eliot’s eyes time to time. This distant look, like a big part of him was missing, one that not even Quentin could fill. Quentin promised himself years ago that he would spend his life taking that sadness away from Eliot. Now he had his chance.

 “Ok,” Quentin said with a smile. “Now it’s time for you too get some sleep.”

 “Finally.” Eliot said pulling Quentin down to him. “I love our little talks Q, but I could really take you shutting up right now." Quentin laughed and pressed his face into Eliot’s neck.

 “I’ll be quiet.” He promised. Eliot didn’t say anything, and his breathing started to even out. Quentin pulled back and watched him.

 Everything that was coming was so overwhelming, Quentin wondered if he would really have the strength to handle it. To do what was needed of him. He didn’t look it, but Quentin was older now. He saw things differently and knew that doing what was right often meant sacrificing the things you loved. He had lost Arielle and his son already. Even though they were long gone, it felt like the quest had pulled them away from him. The pain of that was so deep and consuming Quentin couldn’t imagine what else could be in store for them

 “Q.” Eliot’s almost whisper of a voice snapped Quentin out of his thoughts. “Stop thinking.” Quentin smiled and rest against him.

 “Hey Eliot.” He said softly. “Do you feel that?” Eliot was quiet then his arms came up and wrapped around him.

 “I feel it.” he said. “I love you too.” Quentin smiled as Eliot fell asleep for real this time. Watching him sleep, Quentin made a promise. He didn’t care about his new found wisdom in this moment. He just knew that as long as Eliot was ok in the end even if it meant himself dying or worse; he would make it happen. One way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like I said, I decided I wanted this chapter to be a stand alone chapter. It's the last time Quentin and Eliot have a big talk with each other and I wanted to give it it's own space and time to sit. I hope everyone is ok with the shorter chapters. Thank you all for the comments and kudos. They give me life! Let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

Quentin found Margo sitting on the same bench in the garden he had escaped too a little over a week ago. She was leaning forward with her hands gripping the wood she sat on tightly. Every so often she would wipe at her face, tears falling from her eye. The look on her face as she stared out at the dead garden reminded Quentin of the night when they had bottled their emotions just a little too long. That beautiful vulnerability that flowed inside her was easy to forget about, but Quentin had seen it enough times now to know that her heart was capable of more than she gave herself credit for.

When he first met Margo he had been intimated as hell. She was the type of woman that he would have stayed away from had he seen her at a party. She was beautiful, outgoing and honest. She would never, in a million years, look his way and Quentin wouldn’t even try to embarrass himself that much. Quentin often wondered that if it hadn’t been for Eliot, would they had ever have been friends? He really care because they did become friends. He really valued that friendship and he had missed it. 

“Scoot over,” Margo looked up surprised and Quentin smiled back. She ducked her face away and moved aside to let him sit next to her.

“How is he?” She asked, trying to hide that she had been crying.

“Uh, good.” Quentin said. “He’s sleeping. Puck is close by and said he’d find me if something was wrong.” Margo nodded and wiped her eye again. 

“That’s great.” She said.

“He’s gonna need a few days of bed rest.” Quentin explained and Margo nodded.

“Of course,” She still wouldn’t look at Quentin.

“You know, I can step up.” Quentin suggested. “Help you out while Eliot recovers. Screw the Fairy Queen right?” Margo finally looked up at him now.

“No,” She said in a soft, but firm voice. “You should take care of Eliot. That’s where you need to be.” There was no hint of sarcasm or jealousy in her voice this time and Quentin nodded.

“Margo,” He said. “I really need to apologize to you.”

“You did.” Margo reminded him with a strained smile.

“I need to do it properly.” She shook her head quickly and placed her hand on top of his.

“Really Q,” She said looking right into his eyes. “No more apologies. I was a dick. You were a bigger one.” Quentin snorted and Margo smiled. “I’ll leave you guys alone.”

“That’s not what we want.” Quentin said frowning at her. Margo looked at him with a painful expression and Quentin took her hand now.

“Stop being so nice to me Q,” She said turning her face away from him. “I’ve been nothing but a bitch to you lately.” Quentin could feel her pulling not only physically away, but emotionally as well.

“You were acting like someone being lied too.” Quentin said. “This was our fault. We were the dicks.” Margo let out a shuddering sigh and shook her head.

“Let’s be real Q,” She said. “I probably would have been the same bitch I was even if you guys told me.” Just like the night of their threesome, seeing how little she saw of herself made Quentin wish he could just wrap her up and make her forget all that.

“That’s not true,” He whispered. She looked at him almost with a hint of pity.

“How do you do that?” She asked.

“Do what?”

“Believe that everyone is so much greater than they really are?” Quentin wrapped an arm around her and she leaned on him.

“Not everyone,” he said. “You.” Margo stared up at him for a minute before she shook her head and brought her hands to her face.

“Dammit Q,” She said, pulling her hands back she smiled at him. “Now it’s Eliot I’m jealous of.” Quentin laughed and she kissed his cheek.

“Thank you.” She said.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled. Margo laid her head on his shoulder and they both relaxed. Quentin thought back to a week ago when the two of them were in this same spot and he couldn’t believe how differently he felt now.

“So, seventy years?” Margo asked. “You just like have seventy years worth of extra memories now?”

“Pretty much.” Quentin said. 

“Jesus,” She said shaking her head. “I can’t even imagine how you guys are handling that. It sounds like so much.” 

“It is,” Quentin said. “But it’s not so bad since we both remember, makes it easier I guess.” Quentin didn’t want to know what it would have been like had he been the only one to remember something like that. He would never know if it was real and that would have driven him insane.

“I’m glad you guys had each other.” Margo said sincerely and Quentin smiled.

“I think it’s become easy for us to keep it to ourselves.” Quentin admitted. “We needed time to figure out what it all meant and who we were now, and I don’t want to speak for Eliot, but I do want to be able to talk to you about it.” Margo moved so she was facing him now with a hopeful look on her face.

“Really?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Quentin. “You’re my friend and I want to be able to tell you about my life.” She smiled and nodded.

“Whatever you want to tell me is fine.” She said. “I’ll try not to be too pushy.” Quentin laughed.

“Well, I had a wife.” he started and Margo looked surprised.

“But what about Eliot?” Quentin smiled, Margo’s tone reminded him of when they were at Brakebills and Margo would tell him all the gossip around the school. He couldn’t help but to be endeared by it.

“He was with us too.” he explained.

“Oh,” Margo said. She squinted her eye as she thought about that for a second. “Like a thrupple!” 

“Yeah I guess.” Quentin said smiling. Margo looked impressed.

“What was her name?” She asked.

“Arielle,” Quentin smiled wistfully thinking of her. “She was pretty amazing. She had her own mind and she never cared what people thought about her.” Margo smiled.

“Sounds like my kind of woman.” She said and Quentin nodded, he had always believe Arielle would have been on of the few people Margo would have gotten along with.

“I don’t think she ever really believed me and El were from the future.” Quentin said with a laugh.

“You told her?” She asked surprised.

“Well, yeah.” Quentin said with a chuckle. “We lived in a really small house so there was no room for secrets. But she always got this look on her face like she thought we were mildly crazy or something.” Margo laughed.

“You do kind of throw off that vibe Q.” Margo said and Quentin laughed then leaned back on the bench.

“Well, she loved us anyway.” he said. He thought of her in that fond way that didn’t hurt as much, but still reminded him of the part of himself that was no longer there. 

“She’s sounds pretty great.” Margo said taking his hand. Quentin smiled at her and then he leaned forward.

“Arielle taught me something that I realize now that I forgot.” Quentin said. “Eliot and I had already been together for a while when she and I got close and it was really confusing at first. Almost more confusing than Eliot and I figuring us out.” Margo smiled fondly at him.

“Of course you were,” She said. “Your big dumb heart wants everyone.” Quentin smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “I wanted to be with Eliot and her. Eliot wanted me to be with her because he thought I’d be happier. She didn’t want Eliot to go anywhere though. She insisted he stay.” 

“Now I think I really like her.” Margo said with a smile.

“She made us see that loving one person doesn’t take away from what you have with someone else, it only adds to it.” Quentin explained. “And that the people we love make us who we are. Eliot stayed and we were all together for awhile, and it was really amazing.” Quentin trailed off his memories of those years when all three were together filled him and he wondered if he would ever find that again. Margo was quiet beside him for a minute before she cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry I said you were taking Eliot from me.” She said. “He needs you. He’s needed you for a long time.”

“He needs you too.” Quentin said firmly. “He missed you. I know he thought about you all the time. We didn’t talk about this life that much after a while because it got to hard, but he never stopped thinking about you.” Margo looked at him hopefully.

“Really?” She asked and Quentin nodded.

“He made sure we celebrated your birthday every year. All the way until the end.” he told her.

“Oh my god.” Margo laughed. Quentin smiled and then put his arm back around her.

“Look, I just want you to know that we don’t have to fight over Eliot.” Margo looked up at him and nodded. “We both love him and that makes us family.” 

“Family?” Margo said as she laid her head on his shoulder. “I was never really good at the family thing.” Quentin smiled.

“Don’t worry.” he assured her. “Eliot and I are pretty good at it. We’ll take care of you.”

*************************************

Eliot waking up to a naked Quentin next to him would never get old. He had had seventy years and his appetite for this had not even come close to being satisfied. Quentin was laying on his stomach, his face half smashed in the pillow and his hair falling over the other half. He was snoring slightly and two of his fingers had found Eliot’s hand in his sleep and was holding onto Eliot’s thumb. Smiling, Eliot pulled on Quentin’s hand to his lips and kissed it, one finger at a time. Then he turned it over and kissed the palm of Quentin’s hand which was enough to get Quentin to open his eyes. For a minute, they just looked at each other, neither not saying a word. Then Quentin smiled and Eliot smiled back.

“Hey,” Quentin said, his voice rough with sleep.

“Hey,” Eliot said leaning over and kissing him properly now. Quentin kissed back and then he stretched his arms up with a yawn.

“What time is it?” he asked as they both sat up.

“No clue.” Eliot said looking out the window for some idea of the time. “Early still, who knows.” Quentin stood up and Eliot leaned back on the pillows and enjoyed the view of Quentin naked standing in the sunlight.

“I’m supposed to meet with Benedict this morning.” Quentin said looking around for some clothes. “He’s going to show me the maps to where the next key should be.” He grabbed a pair of pants and began stumbling into them and Eliot grabbed his robe that lay at the end of the bed.

“When does this next part of the quest start?” He asked as he tied the robe around himself and sat back on the bed.

“Once you’re up and running again.” Quentin said as he pulled on a shirt. 

“You make me sound like a computer.” Eliot pouted. “And I’m fine. My head doesn’t even hurt anymore so I think two days in bed was all I needed.” Quentin gave him a look as he put on his vest and walked over to Eliot.

“Not until the healers say.” He told him standing in front of Eliot. “Until then, you’re staying in here.” He smiled at Eliot who just frowned at him.

“You’re enjoying this too much.” He said. “Is this punishment for keeping you locked in here?” 

“Think of it more as karma.” Quentin smirked then kissed Eliot. Eliot kissed him back then swatted him away playfully. 

“Dick,” He said and Quentin laughed and went to find his shoes. 

Eliot didn’t want to admit that he had secretly been ok with staying in bed the past few days. It had delayed the quest and Eliot didn’t want Quentin to know how glad he was for that. He had finally gotten Quentin feeling confident about the whole thing again. He didn’t want it to show that all he wanted to do right now was hold onto Quentin and let the others finish this whole thing. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door and Margo slowly poked her head in, the eye averted.

“Is everyone decent?” She asked and Eliot couldn’t help but to smile.

“Since when did you feel the need to act modest?” He asked. Margo looked up fully and smiled.

“Just making sure I don’t see something I can’t unsee.” She said. “I never know with you two.” Quentin smiled and Eliot chuckled. Margo looked over him nervously. They hadn’t talked much since the day Eliot got attacked. He knew they were due for an actual heart to heart but it felt like they were both avoiding it so they had slipped back to their fun banter because that was how they knew how to relate to each other.

“Q,” Margo said looking at Quentin. “Benedict is waiting with the maps.” Quentin nodded and grabbed for his books and papers.

“Where are you meeting him?” Eliot asked worry seeping into his voice.

“Don’t worry.” Quentin said coming over to him. “We’re meeting in the fairy repellent hallway. I’ll be careful I promise.” He leaned down and gave him a quick kiss and Eliot nodded.

“Ok,” He said. “Go have fun with Benedict, without me.” Quentin smiled and then walked out, squeezing Margo’s hand as he passed her. After he was gone, Margo shifted uncomfortably where she stood and Eliot suddenly realized that without Quentin there, he didn’t know what to say to her.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you get some rest.” She said and turned to leave. Suddenly Eliot knew, he couldn’t let her walk out of there.

“Wait,” he said and she slowly turned around. “Don’t go Margo. We need to get past this. I can’t keep this up anymore.” Margo sighed in relief and walked over to the bed.

“Thank god.” She said sitting at the end of the bed. “I was hoping on of us would say something.” They smiled weakly at each other. 

“So,” Eliot said clearing his throat. “Do we do the emotional thing and talk about our problems and really work out what they are and resolve them all and have our relationship grow and develop. Or do we just agree to forget about it for now and be us again.” Margo smiled at him sadly and for a second Eliot wondered if she was going to choose the first one.

“We would have to be here for weeks I’m thinking if we chose to hash it all out.” She said, he smile turning more into a smirk.

“True,” Eliot said smiling. “But I will say, I’m sorry for my part in our latest drama.” Margo nodded and then moved a little closer to him.

“I’m even more sorry.” She said. “I feel awful about saying that the other timeline had been shitty.” Eliot nodded and motioned her closer. Margo moved so she was sitting next to him.

“I guess I should have told you.” He said. Margo looked over him.

“Why didn’t you?” She asked. Eliot met her gaze and sighed. He’d been asking himself the same question and he’d come up with nothing. Looking into her eyes now, and having her ask it, he knew.

“I was afraid that if I told you then you wouldn’t believe me.” He said. “Or that you wouldn’t get and I was so scared of all of that other life not being real, I guess I didn’t want you to shit on it.” Margo shook her head with a smile and Eliot snorted. 

“Nice plan.” She said. Eliot shrugged. “I hope you know that I do believe you.” Eliot nodded.

“Q told me he told you some stuff.” He said. “About Arielle.” Margo nodded.

“You know, when you left here, I couldn’t shake this feeling that something terrible happened to you.” Margo said. “I tried sending you a messenger bunny but they kept coming back. That’s when I knew, you must have been dead.” Eliot frowned and reached over for hand.

“When I got Q’s letter,” Eliot could see her shiver and he pulled her to him, all the distance between then seemed to melt when he saw that she needed him. “I knew I was right.”

“I’m sorry Bambi.” Eliot said. Margo pulled back enough to look at him.

“It happened Eliot.” She said. “The life you and Q had. How else would I get his letter? And, I could feel it. It felt like you were gone. I would never not believe you two on this.” Eliot smiled and hugged her tightly. He suddenly felt a weight being lifted off of him. He didn’t realize how much Margo’s belief in all this meant to him until this very moment.

“Thank you Margo.” He said his voice shaking slightly with emotion.

“You’re welcome.” She pulled back and looked into his face. “You guys are also different too.”

“We are?” Eliot asked. 

“Yeah, you seem older. Especially Q,” She smiled proudly. “Our boy grew up.” Eliot smiled back.

“He did.” Margo laced her fingers through Eliot’s and he reveled in the familiar weight of her hand.

“You’ll have to tell me how that happened.” Eliot nodded and kissed her cheek.

“I will,” He promised. “You will get the whole story someday Bambi, it’s just a long one.” She nodded.

“I’m prepared.” She said. “Could you answer one question right now at least?” 

“Anything,” Eliot said. Margo smiled.

“What did Q look like as an old man?” Eliot laughed and Margo bounced impatiently next to him.

“He looked very Dumbledore.” Eliot said and Margo laughed affectionately

“Of course he would.” She said and they laughed. 

“He was really cute.” Eliot insisted. “The beard was good for pulling.” Margo shook her head.

“Ok, didn’t want to know that.” She said laughing. Eliot smirked at her and she just shook her head. Eliot knew there was still a lot of shit between them, but for right now at least, they were going to laugh and gossip and just be them. Finally he felt like he was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, all I have left is an epilogue which I will try to get up as soon as I can. I kind of can't believe it's almost over. I've had such fun writing this and seeing all the comments as made me feel so great! I'm so excited to write more! I have plans for their Fillory time that once I get this one all out of me I can finally turn my full attention too. I hope everyone has enjoyed this as much as I have! Let me know what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this up so much quicker than I did. I was taken down by the flu, but am finally on the mend! So here is the end of this story! I kind of can't believe it. Thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos! Everyone is so amazing!! I hope everyone enjoyed the story and I can assure there is more to come! Thank you!!!

“Quentin! You can come in now!” Quentin sighed as Margo’s voice shouted from inside her room. She and Eliot had been in there for about ten minutes now with orders for him to wait outside the door. Margo claimed she had come up with an idea for Quentin to get out of Eliot’s room and giving him something to do. He really had no idea what he was about to walk into.

“Look guys,” Quentin said coming into the room. “I don’t really think we need to even worry about this anymore. We need to get the next key.” Margo and Eliot stood in front of Margo’s bed with their arms around each other and smiles plastered on their faces. Eliot especially seemed very excited about what they had come up with.

“Q,” Margo said crossing her arms. “Will you just humor us?”

“Or at least me?” Eliot said with pout and Quentin rolled his eyes.

“Ok,” He said. “What is your big idea?” Eliot and Margo grinned at each other and then stepped away to reveal a palace guards uniform laying on Margo’s bed. Quentin raised his eyebrows and slowly looked up at his friends

“I am not wearing that.” He said. Margo giggled while Eliot picked up the hat and came over to Quentin.

“Come on Q.” He said draping his arm over Quentin’s shoulder. “Think of how good you’ll look in the uniform.” Eliot placed the hat on Quentin’s head and smiled fondly at him.

“Yeah, I don’t I really care.” Quentin grumbled while Eliot fiddled with the hat. “Why a guard?” He asked Margo.

“With the recent attack on the High King, it brought to our attention that he could use another personal guard.” Margo said smiling proudly. “And this way you don’t have to be locked in Eliot’s room all day and can get around the castle easier while you find out more about the quest.”

“Doesn’t she come up with the best ideas?” Eliot asked going over to Margo now and pulling her into a hug. Quentin took off the hat and sighed. He had to give it to Margo, it was a good idea.

“Yeah, she does.” He said grudgingly. “Those uniforms just never looked really comfortable.”

“Don’t worry.” Eliot said coming back over to him. “I promise to make you very comfortable with the uniform.” He took Quentin’s hands into his own and moved in close. Quentin smiled up at him.

“Really?” he asked. Eliot nodded and gave him a quick kiss.

“You would also be fulfilling a certain fantasy of mine.” Quentin raised an eyebrow at that and Eliot leaned down to kiss him again.

“And that would be my cue to leave.” Margo said heading to the door. Quentin stepped away from Eliot looking a little flustered and Eliot smiled at him, giving him a playful poke.

“Sorry Margo." Quentin said. Margo waved her hand as she stopped at the door.

“Don’t mind me.” She said. “Just, if you guys are about to hump each other I should leave because it’s been way too long since I’ve been laid and just carry on!” She smiled at them both and then left the room, closing the door behind her. Quentin turned back to Eliot with a shrug who smiled and kissed him.

“I actually have to go too.” Eliot said. “I’m meeting with the Fairy Queen soon.” He sighed and Quentin leaned into him.

“Do you still want to meet at noon?” Quentin asked. Quentin was going to show Eliot what he had learned about the next key and they agreed to get started on looking for it. Quentin knew it was going to require a boat and he was excited to see the Muntjac finally. Eliot had told him about it and the thought of he and Eliot sailing together on it was a certain fantasy of his own.

“Yeah, I’ll come find you.” Eliot said. “Also, stay near the Fairy repellent hallway while you do palace guard things.”

“Eliot come on,” Quentin said. “The Fairy Queen has to know I’m here and she obviously doesn’t care that I-”

“Humor me?” Eliot pleaded and Quentin just sighed.

“Ok,” he said and Eliot smiled.

“Great,” he said and straightened out his shirt “Then wish me luck and you get into that uniform.”

“Good luck,” Quentin said frowning at the uniform.

“Don’t look so glum Quentin.” Eliot said placing the hat back on Quentin’s head. “We are going on a quest.” Quentin slowly smiled and wrapped his arms around Eliot’s waist.

“You ready for this?” he asked. Eliot nodded and hugged Quentin back.

“We are ready for this.” He corrected him. “It’s gonna be fine.” He kissed Quentin’s forehead and headed toward the door. Quentin watched him and couldn’t help but to feel a sense of foreboding building in his stomach.

“Eliot.” he called out. Eliot turned and Quentin suddenly didn’t know what he wanted to say. He thought about everything they had been through and what could be waiting for them. So for a few seconds, he wanted to keep them right where they were.

“Quentin.” Eliot said gently coming over to him. “Do what I do”

“What do you do?” Quentin asked.

“When I get I get those thoughts you’re having right now.” Eliot ran his finger along Quentin’s forehead, pulling some hair behind his ear. “I just remember that you and I are the beauty of all life.” Quentin smiled.

“The beauty of all life?” Eliot nodded

“That was what the mosaic was about right?” he asked. “Not a puzzle, we were the beauty of all life, and everything we had. So the rest of this will be easy right?” Quentin snorted and rest against Eliot.

“How can you feel so confident about this?” he asked.

“Because of you.” Eliot said simply. “And I know that someday I won’t be so confident and that’s when you’ll be there to step up and take over for me. That’s what we do. That’s the beauty of us.” Quentin smiled, looking up at Eliot.

“Beauty of all life?” Eliot just shrugged and kissed him.

“I really have to go now.” He said. “You gonna be ok?” Quentin nodded and detached himself from Eliot.

“Yeah, of course.” he assured him. “I’ll see you at noon?” Eliot nodded and turned to the door.

“It will be the one thing I’ll be looking forward too all day.” Eliot said and gave Quentin one last look before he went out the door.

Quentin stood alone in Margo’s room for a few moments. It was finally time for the next key. A big part of him was excited. He was ready to feel apart of something again. The mosaic had taught him what having a purpose could feel like. It had taken decades but he finally saw that everyday wasn’t the failure he had once thought, it was just one step closer to solving everything. The thought of getting back out there, reuniting with the rest of his friends, and getting magic back felt better than any of the anti depression meds he had ever taken.

He moved over to the bed and picked up the top half the guards uniform. There was also that was the part of him that wasn’t ready for this. He and Eliot could talk their way back to feeling better over and over but that didn’t stop the feeling that something bad was coming. He dropped the uniform back down and took off the hat. He needed to stop this.

There was no stopping any of this now. This back and forth battle of needing the quest and being scared of it needed to end. It was time to focus. Besides, if he and Eliot could make it through an entire lifetime, getting through the rest of the quest would be no trouble.

Quentin smiled to himself and he started to change his clothes. The beauty of all life? If that was really the point of it all, then Quentin didn’t need to worry. As long as when this whole thing was over, that he and Eliot would be together, then Quentin knew everything would be worth it.


End file.
